Convergence
by Mardia
Summary: Two strangers meet and a series of events keep them connected. Sam McCall is in for a bumpy ride. JasonSamLucky. AU. Chapter fourteen up.
1. one: the first meeting

_Title: Convergence_

_Rating: PG-13_

_Pairing: Jason/Sam/Lucky._

_Characters: Jason, Sam, Lucky, the Quartermaines, Sonny, Carly, Courtney, and Coleman._

_Summary: AU. Two strangers meet and a series of events keep them connected. Sam McCall is in for a bumpy ride. Jason/Sam/Lucky._

_Disclaimer: Hah! If I owned General Hospital, things would be SO much different._

* * *

"You wanna play a game?"

She didn't know why she had asked the question. From the way this guy hunkered down in his stool, the way his shoulders were hunched, it was pretty clear that he wanted to be left alone.

But hell, Sam wanted to play some pool with a guy who could actually hold his own against her.

He turned to look at her. And just for a second, no, a millisecond, her breath caught in her throat as his blue eyes were pinned on her. Damn. "What? Pool?"

"No," she said, totally dead-pan. "Croquet. Of course pool!"

There was a slight twitch of the mouth at that. "Why me?"

Sam shrugged. "Because so far, everyone else here stinks at it." And God, was that ever true. Unlike most working-class, rundown bars, Jake's was sorely lacking in people with any talent at pool.

An eyebrow was raised. "That so?"

She remained cool. "Well, compared to me they do."

Oh yeah, definitely a slight smirk there. "Alright," he said, sliding off the stool gracefully. "Let's play."

"My name's Sam," she offered as they walked over to the pool table. "Just in case you were wondering."

"I'm Jason."

* * *

Jason looked at her warily as she knocked back yet another shot of tequila. "You sure you should be drinking that much?"

Sam laughed, her voice raspy from the liquor and the secondhand smoke wafting around. "Don't worry about me. I can hold my liquor. Your shot."

As he lined it up, she asked, "So, what do you do?"

Blue eyes flickered up to meet her own. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," she admitted. "Just passing through." To the next job, the next con, the next way to score some easy cash....

"I import coffee."

"Hmm." As she took her shot, she ignored all the men staring at the strip of tanned skin between the hem of her shirt and her jeans. What Sam didn't ignore was the way Jason looked at it...then looked away. She sunk the ball into the pocket. "Damn, I'm good." She looked over at Jason...and nearly swallowed her tongue as she saw the golden flash of what could only be a wedding ring. "So. You're married?"

Fuck, fuck, and then fuck. Which was apparently something that wasn't happening to her anytime soon. Sam did a lot of things, but one thing she didn't do was married men. She hadn't _always_ walked the walk...but for the most part, adultery was a commandment she didn't break.

One of the few commandments she didn't break.

Jason glanced at the ring as if he was also surprised to see it there. "Not anymore," he said softly, then after a moment, took it off, setting it down carefully on the edge of the table.

"Separated?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Divorced."

"How long?"

He glanced at his watch. "Uhh...about eight hours and 23 minutes."

Sam let out a surprised laugh. "Damn. You really are on the rebound, aren't you?"

He met her gaze, his eyes laid bare. And not for the first time, her breath caught in her throat. Again. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly, his voice soft. Honest.

Sam studied him for a second. The sharpness of his cheekbones...the spiky hair...those blue eyes. "No, I don't mind at all."

* * *

The sheets were scratchy. Not that either of them minded too much...they were too spent to worry about the thread count. Sam worried for a second whether she could catch anything from this place...but quickly lost her train of thought as she caught a glimpse of Jason's rock-hard abs. He was leaning back against the headboard, smoking a cigarrette, looking gorgeous and detacted. "Hey," she said. "You okay?"

"Fine," he said curtly as he exhales the smoke.

Sam was a little bit miffed, more at herself for expecting anything more. Christ, what was she expecting, pillow talk? The guy had just gotten divorced. Sam wasn't an idiot, she knew she was nothing more than a quick diversion, a distraction. Something to numb the pain.

No complications, just great sex.

Just the way she liked it.

Usually.

Jason glanced over at her...and Sam couldn't be sure, but she thought his face softened, just a little bit. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she said, and stretched. "Damn...I don't know why you and your wife split up...but I know it couldn't've been about the sex."

For a moment, Sam's worried that she's gone too far...but Jason's mouth has quirked up again. "Thanks...I guess." He looked at where the swell of her breasts can be seen above the sheet. Not leering, exactly...just looking.

Feeling more emboldened, Sam asked, "So, why did you and your wife split up?"

He paused before answering. "She hated my job."

"Hmm." A workaholic. She wouldn't have pegged him for the type. "Alright." Sam smiled at him slowly, deciding to bring the subject matter around to more pressing matters. "Think you can go another round?"

His mouth on hers...his hot, wandering hands...were all the answer she needed.

* * *

The bartender/owner flashed her a sleazy grin as she came downstairs. "Good afternoon, Dollface."

"Don't call me Dollface," she ordered automatically. Jason had left hours ago, but she had stayed in bed, dozing.

Coleman gave her a look. "Now, baby, I'm just worried about you. Sweet little girls like you shouldn't be hanging around the big bad wolves."

"I'm not sweet," Sam said, "and what's wrong with Jason?" Sam was confused. Sure, the guy had just been divorced and was less than forthcoming with any details about his life. And yeah, he wasn't about the facial expressions. And he probably wasn't entirely on the right side of the law. So?

Coleman gave her a quick grin. "Never heard of Jason Morgan? Or Sonny Corinthos?"

"Nope," she said brazenly. "But I bet you're about to fill me in."

Coleman wiped down the bar, still smiling at her. "Darlin', Sonny Corinthos is the mob kingpin of Port Charles. And the guy you were upstairs screwing all night? Well, he's Sonny's right-hand man."

Well, _shit_.

* * *

Sam was trying very hard not to hyperventilate.

Wasn't doing too good a job of that so far.

The mob. Holy shit, Sam had always had a talent for getting into trouble, but _damn_.

Cody's voice echoed in her head. _"If there's one thing I'm gonna teach you, Sammie, it's to stay away from the mob, any mob. Hear me?"_

Oh, she'd heard, alright. It was one of the few good pieces of advice Cody had given her. Cody McCall had been a lousy father...but he'd been right on that. Whatever Sam did, she couldn't get involved with the mob. Not unless she actually _wanted_ to end up getting screwed over.

Sam's rules were simple. Don't fuck married men. Stay in control, always. Above all, avoid the mob.

She had to think.

Alright, so Jason was a mob enforcer. Okay. It wasn't that big a deal, wasn't like he was anything more than a one-night stand. She'd leave town and he would stay, and they would both forget about their little encounter. No harm done.

Trouble was, Sam _couldn't_ leave town. Not until she'd found the goddamned treasure that had brought her to this town in the first place. And packing up without finding that damned treasure was unthinkable. No way. Sam had worked far too hard for this to walk away now, simply because she'd happened to sleep with the wrong guy.

So she'd just avoid Jason Morgan from now on. Simple.

_TBC..._


	2. two: three tests and one result

* * *

"What happened to you?" Coleman asked the second Sam walked in. "Last I checked, it wasn't raining." Sam rolled her eyes as she sqeegeed her soaking wet hair, letting the water drip onto the floor. "Hey, hey!" Coleman yelped. "Ain't no way I'm mopping up after you, darling." 

"Not in a good mood, Coleman," she snapped. Hours and hours of scuba diving and she still hadn't found the damn ships.

Coleman leered at her. "I could fix that. Maybe start out with some dinner..."

Sam had to laugh at that. "Oh, come on, Coleman. Guys like you don't do dinner, you just..._do_."

Coleman tilted his head, considering. "Might be right at that."

"Damn straight," Sam muttered, stomping up the stairs.

Sam flipped her soaking hair over one shoulder, as she opened her door. She was pretty good at scuba diving, but not great at it. And since the Cassadine sink was under the Quartermaine ship, there was a very good chance she won't be able to get to it. That was fine though, since she still had the Quartermaine ship to ransack.

Now, if she could just find the damn ships, she'd be set.

But Sam had spent over a year planning this, and she wasn't about to back out now. And it wasn't even a crime she needed to feel guilty about. Both the Cassadines and Quartermaines were loaded, and they'd never miss a treasure they didn't even know existed.

Sam, however, could use that money. Maybe for a Lambourgini.

* * *

It had been days without any sight of Jason Morgan. Sam was relieved, because she really didn't need any potential distractions. Not that Jason had the potential to be a distraction. He was just a one-night stand. A close call.

Sam put him out of her mind.

But it became a little bit harder to do so when her period, which had always been regular, was late by two days.

Then three days.

Then five.

Finally a week.

Then two weeks.

It was three weeks before Sam could bring herself to consider the possibility. The highly remote possibility, since they'd used a condom and despite what TV made you think, condoms did not break all the time. Sure, they could and did break, but not every single time.

There was no way she could be pregnant.

Except for the fact that her period had always been regular since the time she was sixteen.

Crap.

* * *

"What's the matter with you, Dollface?" Coleman asked.

Sam shrugged. She wasn't even sure if she should be in Jake's. The secondhand smoke could be bad for the baby...

Wait a minute. There was no baby. _No_ baby.

Coleman was staring at her. Clearly, he'd said something and she'd failed to respond. "You want a drink?"

"Can't," Sam responded. Pregnant or not--and she wasn't pregnant--she really couldn't afford to get drunk now.

Coleman stared at her, his mouth falling open. "Say what? Baby, you always want a drink. You down the tequila like it's water every night, without fail, and here you are telling me you don't want a drink?" He shot her a wary look. "All right, who the hell are you and where's the real Sam?"

"Oh, bite me."

"Now, now, I might have to a full-body examination," Coleman said. "You know, just to make sure it's really you."

Sam smacked him on the arm. "Pig."

"All right, so what's really going on then?" he inquired, then his face darkened. "And please don't tell me this has anything to do with Jason Morgan."

She looked up at him through her bangs. "Possibly."

"Oh, hell." Coleman looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for help from a Higher Power. "Now, I thought you were going to stay away from him."

"I was. I am," she insisted. "It's just--" she trailed off in horror. Dear God, was she really about to spill this to Coleman? Coleman, the sleazy bartender who would tell anyone anything for the right price? "Never mind," she muttered, getting up. "I gotta go."

* * *

At the convenience store, the cashier raised an eyebrow at the three pregnancy tests, but didn't say anything.

As she walked outside with her purchases, Sam nearly ran into--

--Jason, talking urgently to a woman with long blond hair. "I don't like it, Courtney--"

"Well, that's just too bad," the woman said, clearly irritated. "Jax is helping me with the foundation. And I don't care if you and Sonny don't approve of him, because I am not living by your rules anymore."

So. This was the ex-wife. Sam noticed, almost detached, that she was very pretty. Blonde, curvy, tall. The bag bumping against her thigh jolted Sam back to reality.

She shouldn't be here.

As Sam slunk away, back to Jake's, she couldn't help but remember the way Jason had looked at his ex-wife--like she was the only thing that really mattered.

* * *

Sam was on the verge of a total meltdown. Three pregnancy tests. _Three._ And all of them, every single one, had the same answer.

God, she was screwed. Sam wanted to cry. She wanted to throw up--could that be morning sickness? Could she get morning sickness this early?

This was not happening. She could not be pregnant with the child of a mob enforcer. How the hell had this happened?

The unbidden image of Jason's rock-hard abs came to mind. Oh yeah. Sam started to pace in the tiny bathroom. Options.

Abortion. Adoption. Telling Jason. Becoming a single mom.

Sam reviewed her choices. Telling Jason--God, was that a conversation she didn't want to have. Telling him wasn't a possibility. He'd probably just tell her to get rid of it anyway, right? Hell, he might even pay her off.

Being a single mother. Sam scoffed at the thought. Her, a single mom? Please. She was not mother material. She was a drifter/con artist. She had no permanent home, nothing to offer this child...hell, it wasn't like she'd even had good role models. Cody had been a joke as a parent, and Evelyn...hadn't been a mother at all. And what the hell was she supposed to do, schedule feedings in between jobs?

Then there was adoption. Sam couldn't it happening. She couldn't see herself carrying a child for nine months and then having the strength to hand it over to someone else. She'd probably do something idiotic, like decide to keep the baby.

Baby. Oh, God.

She only had one choice left.

So, that was it. She'd made the best choice she could. That was it, and there was no reason for her to cry.

But she did anyway.

* * *

"You all right, McCall?" Coleman asked as she came downstairs the next morning.

"Just peachy," Sam muttered, knowing she looked like hell. Limp hair she'd tied back into a ponytail, red-rimmed eyes from crying herself to sleep. "Got a phone book? I need to look something up." Coleman wordlessly handed it to her, and Sam turned to the C's.

For clinics.

* * *

"Miss?" The woman's voice was muffled, since she was trying to Sam through a bathroom door. "Miss, are you all right?"

_Am I all right? No, you old cow, I am fucking **not** all right, I just burst into tears in the middle of your waiting room!_

"I'm fine," Sam shouted. "Just--give me a minute, okay?" She hastily splashed some cold water on her face.

When she finally came out, the elderly receptionist was gone, and a pretty young woman was standing there instead. "Are you all rihgt?" she asked. The obvious compassion in her eyes and voice made Sam burst into tears all over again.

"Shit," she muttered, wiping them away hastily. Not that it did much good, new tears kept falling. "I'm sorry, but I can't--seem to get ahold of myself."

"Hey--why don't we go somewhere and talk?" she offered. "My name's Emily."

"I'm Sam."

"So," Emily said, as they sat down in chairs. "how far along are you"

"Uh...about three and a half weeks," Sam muttered. "God, I can't believe I burst into tears back there. Must be the hormones."

Emily nodded. "Or," she suggested, "maybe it's the fact that you're not ready to make this kind of decision yet."

"I--I don't really have any other options," Sam said dully.

"Well, you know there's always adoption, if you feel you can't keep this baby," Emily pointed out. "What--what does the father think about this?"

Sam let out a choked laugh. "He doesn't know. God, he'd--he'd probably just tell me to get rid of it. Not much room for a kid when you're a mob enforcer."

Shit. She had not just said that out loud. Sam turned to Emily, scared. "Oh, God, I didn't mean to say that--"

"Don't worry," Emily reassured her. "There's a seal of confidentiality from the moment you stepped in."

Sam relaxed somewhat. "And you can't repeat this to anyone, right?"

"Right."

"Good," Sam said. "The last thing I need is for him to find out...he just got divorced, the last thing he would want is a kid..."

If Sam hadn't been so distraught, she might have noticed Emily stiffening in the chair at her words. "He just got divorced, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Is--it is Jason Morgan?"

Sam turned to her. "What, you know him?"

Emily's eyes grew huge. "I--uh, I know _of_ him," she said vaguely. "Small town." She paused. "So...he is the father, then."

Sam decided to just admit it. She was safe, anyway, because of the confidentiality. "Yeah, he is. I was in Jake's...he was there...it was just one night. I didn't even--God, I didn't even know his last name, much less what he did for a living." She paused. "Guess that makes me a slut, huh?"

"No," Emily said quickly.

They sat there in silence. Finally, Emily said quietly. "Maybe...maybe you should tell him. He might surprise you."

Sam laughed as she stood up. "Doubtful."

"Well...are you going to think some more before you reach a decision?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. I mean--I don't know. We'll see." She quickly left.


	3. three: discovery

For the next two weeks, Sam did nothing but try to come to a decision.

She'd gone back to the clinic a few times—well, to be totally accurate, she'd _tried_ to go back to the clinic. But every time she got within sight of the place, she would start shaking. Her hands, her knees—the closer she got to it, the worse it would get, until it felt like she was about to fly apart into pieces.

It was pretty safe to say abortion wasn't really an option for her anymore.

The problem was that adoption didn't seem feasible either. No matter how hard she tried, Sam just couldn't see herself giving up her baby to complete strangers. She knew her limits, and this was definitely one of them.

But could she actually raise a child? Sam didn't know anything about babies or kids, and what if Jason came looking for them one day?

Her thoughts ran around and around like this, and there were no answers coming.

The treasure was forgotten. It was hard to think about sunken ships when she was staring at her stomach in the mirror, trying to imagine it swollen and actually be able to feel the baby kicking inside.

She was just—stuck. Sam couldn't go back, but she couldn't seem to move forward either. Just—stuck in transition.

* * *

She'd been pregnant for about five weeks before Jason finally came.

She was coming down the stairs, ready to go out and get some food. Burger King, maybe, or Subway, when—

"Look, man. I don't have any idea who the hell you're talking about," Coleman was insisting.

"Tell me where she is," another voice demanded, and Sam's heart came to a screeching halt.

_Jason._

Jason Morgan was here, in Jake's—oh God, was he looking for her? Why would he be looking for her?

Emily. Jesus. Emily from the clinic—she knew, she might have—she'd been acting so strange, right up from the moment Sam had admitted that Jason was the father, she wasn't supposed to say anything, but if she had—

Oh, God.

There was a loud creak, and Sam realized, too late, that she had shifted her weight, causing the floorboards to groan. Shit.

The conversation immediately stopped, and all of a sudden—there he was, at the bottom of the stairs.

Oh, dear God.

Time slowed down to a crawl as they stared at each other. Sam couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't even _breathe_...all she could do was stare at him. The sharp cheekbones, the spiky hair, the growth of stubble...those blue eyes.

But with a horrible, sickening rush, she remembered. Who he was. What he did. And what she couldn't let happen.

"Sam—"

Whatever he was going to say, Sam didn't wait around for him to finish. Turning around, she ran back up the stairs, stumbling and tripping, her legs shaking, completely aware that he was right behind her, his footsteps thundering up the steps.

She ran to her room, opened the door, and locked it behind her not a moment too soon.

Sam let her shaky legs collapse, let herself fall to the floor and lean her back against the door.

"Sam?" Jason called out through the door. He tried the doorknob, then knocked when he realized she'd locked it. "Sam, will you come out please?"

She shot a glance at the window. Maybe she could get out through there...oh, who was she kidding? She was on the fourth floor, for crying out loud.

"Sam?"

"Go away," she muttered, then repeated more loudly, "Go away!"

"No," he replied.

"What do you want?" she demanded, deciding to play dumb. Maybe he wasn't here about the baby. But what else would he be here about? Besides, Sam had seen it in his eyes—he knew that she was pregnant.

"Sam, I know about the baby."

Huh. Confidentiality, her ass.

A slight twinge of pain distracted her. Pain...in her stomach...oh, no. No, no, no, no—this wasn't happening, why was this happening? Sam hadn't done anything—she hadn't fallen down the stairs, hadn't smoked anything, hadn't drank any alcohol...

The pain got worse. Much worse. Gasping, Sam lurched to her feet. Almost doubling over, she managed to unlock the door and throw it open. "Jason," she gasped out, not caring if he knew or not, "it hurts—the baby—"

As Jason immediately took her into his arms and ran down the stairs, Sam stopped thinking about abortion. She wanted this child to live, she wanted it to be with her, she wanted the pain to stop, she wanted the baby to be all right...

* * *

Sam stared at her folded hands, which were lying in her lap. When that got boring, she stared at the blanket, or her hospital gown.

Dr. Meadows said gently as she came in, "Sam?'

Sam immediately looked up, terrified. "Is the baby gone?"

"No,' Dr. Meadows reassured her. "The baby's fine. You got here just in time."

She closed her eyes. "Thank God."

"I'd like to keep you here for the night, just for observation." There was a slight pause before the doctor said gently, "Mr. Morgan is waiting outside. Do you want him in here?"

Sam's eyes flew open. "No. No way."

Dr. Meadows nodded. "All right, I'll tell him."

* * *

He didn't stay away, of course. Had she really been expecting him to? "Sam?" he called out gently as he stepped into the room about five minutes later.

She kept staring at her hands. "Please go away," she whispered.

"I'm not going to do that," Jason stated, coming closer. "Sam, will you please just look at me?'

Reluctantly, Sam met his gaze. God, he looked so _calm_. "The baby's mine, isn't it," he said. Not a question, not really, more like a statement.

Sam stared back at her hands. "No, it's not." Trying to make the lie sound more plausible, she added, "My, um, my boyfriend and I have already had a paternity test done, and—"

"You're lying," he said evenly.

"I'm not lying," Sam said feebly, still staring at her lap.

"Look at me, Sam," he ordered, and she did so. Jason's eyes seemed like they were on fire, they were that intense. "Look me in the face, and tell me that child's not mine."

She opened her mouth, ready to lie—and she just _couldn't_. The words lodged in her throat, withering away. Sam was bewildered, confused—she was a con artist, for God's sake. Lying came to her as easily as breathing—or at least, it was supposed to.

God, what the hell was _with_ this guy? He'd managed to stroll in and turn her entire life upside down—look what had happened to her! She couldn't even _lie_ now!

Furious, both at him and herself, Sam turned her face to the window. "I want you to leave."

"Not without a paternity test."

Sam whipped her head back to glare at him. "You cannot be serious."

"You're five weeks pregnant, Sam," Jason said coolly. "I did the math. And I don't care how many guys you say you slept with, there's still a chance it could be mine."

"It's not yours," Sam repeated, and she didn't attempt to meet his gaze this time. She glanced at him.

Jason shrugged. "Then there shouldn't be a problem confirming it."

* * *

Sam was restless. The test had been performed, and right now they were waiting for the results. Not that Sam didn't already know what the stupid test was going to say...

Jason came in, again, this time with Emily, the snitch.

Sam glared at her. "How much did he pay you?"

Emily looked surprised, whether it was at Sam's rage or her accusation. "He--he didn't--"

Jason sighed. "Emily's my sister," he explained.

Sam really didn't give a damn. "Oh, great. And I suppose there's a clause in that whole matter of confidentiality that says you can blab to siblings. Great. Just—great."

"Sam—"

"Get out," she ordered.

Jason squared his shoulders. "Not until I find out the results of the paternity tests."

"Then wait in the hall!"

Jason opened his mouth, but his sister laid a hand on his arm. "Jase, maybe we should..."

"Fine," he muttered, and turned and left. Emily hesitated, then turned to Sam. "Sam, he had a right to know—"

"Get out," Sam repeated dully.

Emily bowed her head and left, and Sam fumed.

Unbelievable. That little snitch—and the paternity test was about to come back any second, and she had no idea of what to do now—God only knew what Jason was going to demand once the tests were back. Maybe he'd demand an abortion. He probably would. What would he want with the kid of a woman he didn't even know?

She heard voices in the hallway, and slid out of the bed to investigate. Cracking the door open, she saw Jason and Emily talking to a short man in a suit with black hair that was slicked back.

"Do we know if—if the baby's yours?" the man was asking.

Jason shrugged. "Not yet."

"But there's a good chance," the man pressed.

"Yeah, Sonny, there's an excellent chance. I mean, the timing's right, she told Emily I was the father..."

Sonny Corinthos seemed to be contemplating this. "I understand that—that she's being hostile."

Sam shivered. Oh, God. Sonny Corinthos was less than five feet away from her. She was in big trouble.

_"If there's one thing I'm gonna teach you, Sammie, it's to stay away from the mob, any mob. Hear me?"_

Sorry, Dad.

Sam continued to listen. "I think she's scared," Emily was saying.

She wanted to laugh at that. The twit _thought_ she was scared? Sam wasn't scared, she was _terrified_. Terrified for the baby, for herself—

"She's—she's confused, she doesn't know what to think—" Emily continued. "I see this all the time at the clinic. I mean, she barely knows Jason, and God only knows what she thought when she found out that he works for the mob..."

Well, what she'd _thought_ was that she was completely and totally screwed.

"All right," Corinthos said, nodding. "So—so, we've got a girl in there with a baby that _might_ be yours. Have I got that right?"

"It _is_ mine, Sonny," Jason said firmly. "Now, I don't know why she's trying to deny it, but she knows that the baby is mine. I can see it in her eyes whenever she looks at me. Hell, she couldn't even deny it when I asked to tell me the truth to my face—"

"Okay, okay," Corinthos said, holding his hands up in a "stop" gesture. "First thing that we gotta do is confirm the paternity. Then we go from there." He paused. "You do realize that—if this child is really yours, you are gonna have a hell of a time trying to explain this to Carly, let alone Courtney—"

"I can handle it," Jason said, cutting him off.

Corinthos shrugged. "All right."

At that moment, Dr. Meadows showed up. "I have the results—"

Feeling as if she was about to faint, Sam quickly hustled back to the bed and got under the covers. Two seconds later, Dr. Meadows came in, along with Jason, Emily, and—holy _shit_—Corinthos.

Sam was shaking, whether from the news about to be imparted or her close proximity to a mobster, she didn't know. Corinthos was eyeing her, and he asked, "Should I go?"

Everyone looked at her, and she laughed. "What, _now_ I get to have a say?" Okay, so she was just a little bitter. Considering that no one seemed to listen to her, even though she was the one carrying the baby that had started this in the first place, Sam felt pretty justified.

Jason bowed his head. "Sam, don't—"

She waved her hand. "Fine, whatever. It doesn't matter."

Dr. Meadows flipped the folder open, glanced down, then looked up. "Well, then. Congratulations, Mr. Morgan. In less than eight months, you are going to be a father."

* * *

Emily and Sonny Corinthos had both left, for which she was incredibly grateful. Emily had glided out, after trying to be solicitous and kind to Sam. Turned out she was a Quartermaine, which made no sense because how the hell was she related to Jason then? But whatever. Sam still despised her.

Corinthos had left as well, giving Sam one more once-over, and giving Jason a significant look that Sam couldn't even begin to decipher.

And she was alone with him. Alone with Jason, and trying to fight back the memories.

_she was eleven and the dress made her look like she was nine, but dad said that was a good thing because nine was a lot cuter than eleven and this would make the job easier. _

_sam still didn't fully understand how everything worked, but she did what her father told her to do. She always had, ever since her first job in maryland--no, wait. First there had been that tiny town in oklahoma, then it had been maryland. it was kind of hard to keep track of all the states she'd been through. sam's jobs were usually to stand there, look adorable, say the right lines to the moms, and play nicely with the kids of the people they were about to work over._

_and now her job was to stay in the motel and wait for her father, while he visited those men in dark suits that had come over yesterday._

_so she would wait. just like dad had told her to._

"Sam?" Jason was sitting on the bed, facing her, and how had she missed that? "You all right? You spaced out there for a minute."

She shook her head irritably. "I'm fine," she snapped. "And would you stop acting like you care?"

Jason's face closed over. "You're carrying my kid. I care."

God, he was confusing. This wasn't part of the script. He was _supposed_ to be an asshole. He was _supposed_ to not give a shit. He was _supposed_ to throw money at her and tell her to get an abortion.

He _wasn't_ supposed to stare at her with wounded blue eyes and act like she was carrying the most precious thing in the world.

But he was.

Sam made herself recall the facts. Jason Morgan worked for the mob. He was the bad guy. Sure, Sam was no saint, but she didn't break people's kneecaps. She didn't put people in the emergency room. She didn't deal in violence and terror.

There, the anger was back. Sam stared at him, and making sure her voice and eyes were filled with loathing, said venomously, "If you tell me to have an abortion, I swear I'll kick you in the teeth."

He leaned back like she'd struck him. "Why the hell would I ask you to do that?"

Now he _really_ wasn't following the script. Sam leaned back, just as surprised as he was. "Because—you're in the mob, and I'm a one-night-stand that got pregnant." Jason just stared at her, and Sam grew panicky. "You can't seriously expect me to believe you want this kid!"

He just looked at her. "Yeah, I can, because that's the truth."

Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm getting a headache," she whimpered. She leaned her head back against the pillows. "I don't even _know_ you."

Jason laid his hand on hers. His hand was warm—strange, she had expected it to be cold. "Listen, visiting hours are about to end...I'll come back tomorrow to pick you up, okay? Then we can really, you know, talk about this and decide what we're going to do _together_."

She nodded, not looking at him. "Okay."

Jason got up and walked towards the door. As he was about to leave, he turned and said, "You know...you don't need to worry about me loving this child. I already do."

Sam's eyes filled with tears. He sounded so sincere...

Jason shut the door gently behind him.

Taking a shaky breath, Sam reached for the phone.

* * *

Coleman shook his head at her as he walked in. "Darling, are you ever in trouble."

"No kidding," Sam muttered. She swallowed. "So, can you do me a favor?"

Coleman shrugged. "What is it?"

"Tell me everything you know about Jason Morgan," Sam said. "And how the _hell_ is he related to Emily Quartermaine?"

Coleman grinned. "Sweetheart, he _is _a Quartermaine. That's his legal name, Jason Quartermaine." He wagged a finger at her. "Tell anyone I called him that, and I'll deny it."

Sam blinked. "He's a Quartermaine."

"Yep."

"As in silver spoon in the mouth, prep school, the family that runs the hospital—_those _Quartermaines?" Sam's voice ended in a near-shriek.

"Yep," Coleman said, seeming to enjoy her reaction.

Sam's headache was getting worse. "I'm sorry—how the _hell_ does a _Quartermaine_ end up working for the mob?"

Coleman looked around. "Does this place get delivery? Cause this is gonna take a while."

"Spill it," Sam ordered.

"Ooh, bossy." Coleman flashed her a smirk. "Is that the hormones talking?"

"Coleman—"

"All right, all right," Coleman pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. "About...lemme see...eight years ago, Jason was the Quartermaine golden boy. He was pre-med, a decent kid, about to follow in his parents and grandfather's footsteps, and he had a pretty girlfriend to boot. Trouble was he had an older brother, AJ, who was a raging alcoholic."

"Okay," she said slowly. "So how does he get from being pre-med to breaking kneecaps?"

"I'm getting there," Coleman said, holding up a finger. "The story goes, that one night there was a huge blowup at that big mansion up there, with AJ and his drinking right at the center of it. AJ ends up storming off, gets behind the wheel of this fancy sports car. Jason runs after him, and get this—goes in the passenger seat of the damn car in a last-ditch attempt to stop his brother." Coleman paused. "Didn't work."

"What happened?" Sam whispered.

"Well," Coleman said meditatively, "AJ started to drive, and of course, he ended up wrapping the car around a tree. He was fine, but Jason...Jason ended up in a coma, with permanent brain damage and absolutely no memory of his life before the accident. It's been eight years, and he _still_ doesn't remember, and probably never will."

Sam was absolutely still as she tried to absorb this. "Okay...but I still don't understand how he ended up working for the mob."

Coleman shrugged. "Well, apparently he couldn't deal with everything. His family, his old friends...the way they looked at him, like he was nothing but a painful reminder of the person they'd lost. Having everyone tell him how wonderful he used to be didn't help matters. He got madder and madder, until he finally broke all ties with his family and decided to work for Corinthos. Changed his name to Morgan, declared his birthday would be the day of the accident, pushed his family away...and there you are, darling. That's how Jason Quartermaine became Jason Morgan."

Sam nodded slowly. "Wow."

"Yep."

"So...the father of my child is not only a mob enforcer...he's brain-damaged and has a plethora of deep-rooted issues with his family?"

"Yep," Coleman said. "You sure know how to pick 'em, don't'cha?"

Sam looked up at him. "Can you help me?"

"Help you with what? Painting the nursery? Picking out your coffin? Because, baby, let me tell you, hanging around Morgan and Corinthos is only gonna end up with you buried six feet under."

Sam bristled. "I can take care of myself."

Coleman laughed at that. "Darling, I'm guessing you've never heard of what happened to the first Mrs. Sonny Corinthos, have you?" Sam just stared at him, and he laughed again. "That would be a no. All right, so the first Mrs. Corinthos was blown up in a car bomb years ago. And get this—she was pregnant."

Sam's heart stopped. "Oh God," she said blankly.

"That's what you've gotten yourself into," Coleman told her. "And if you want my advice—get the hell out if you still can."

"Can I?"

He shrugged. "Would be risky. You'd have to leave the country...and even then, it wouldn't be a sure thing."

Sam nodded. Flee the country. Okay. "Okay," she said. "Can you help me? If you do...I'll tell you how you can become a millionaire."

Coleman perked up at this. "I'm listening."

Sam quickly told him everything she knew about the sunken ships and the treasure they carried inside their rotting hulls. When she was finished, Coleman whistled. "Whew. Wow."

"Yeah," Sam said impatiently. "Now, help me."

Coleman grinned at her. "All right. Let me ask you something. You ever been to Costa Rica?"


	4. four: coming to an agreement

A convent in Central America.

Sam _still_ couldn't believe this was where Coleman had decided to stash her. A _convent_. With...nuns and priests and Mass was held nine times a day...

And the worst part was--Sam actually _liked_ it there. It was just so...peaceful, so serene. And all the people here were so kind to her. They didn't judge her for having a baby out of wedlock. They gave her advice and tried to calm her down and make her feel better.

And Sam had actually managed to come to a realization.

She actually _wanted_ this child.

It was insane, it was completely illogical--but she wanted it anyway. She wanted to hold her child in her arms every night. She wanted to pick out baby clothes, put together a crib. She wanted to be there for first steps, first words. To put band-aids on skinned knees.

Sam knew nothing about children. Her mother hadn't been a mother at all. Her father was a criminal who had looked at her as a partner-in-crime instead of a daughter. Sam's life was currently a mess. She had no home, no stable job--there were a million reasons not to keep this child.

But she wanted to anyway.

And...maybe she _could_ do it right. Maybe. There were lots of single moms out there, right? And there were millions of books about babies, about child-rearing...there was always Dr. Phil...and you know, maybe living in the suburbs wouldn't be _absolute_ hell...

And almost before she realized it, she'd made her decision. And, it wasn't even that hard. It was like...all she'd needed to do was get to a place where she could really think, where she didn't have to worry about Jason, about Corinthos, where she didn't need to think about the treasure...a place where she felt safe and secure.

Come to think of it, that was probably the reason Coleman had sent her here in the first place. Sam smiled at the thought, hoping he was enjoying that sunken treasure.

* * *

"Hello, Samantha," Sister Agnes said.

Sam looked up from her paperwork. "Hello, Sister."

"What are you doing?"

Sam said ruefully, "Figuring out how much money I have. There's a bit in my own accounts, and my dad left me some...I mean, babies are really expensive and..." She trailed off as she noticed the look on Sister Agnes's face. "What's wrong?"

The nun sighed. "Samantha...there are two American men asking for you. They...they match the description of the men you told me about..."

Sam stared at her. "You're kidding."

Sister Agnes shook her head ruefully. "I am not kidding."

Sam couldn't believe it. "They're really here? How? I'm in Costa Rica, for God's sake!"

"Do you want me to get rid of them?" Sister Agnes offered. "Because I would enjoy that. The little one is rather obnoxious."

"Oh, please do."

* * *

As Sister Agnes was happily tearing a strip off both Jason and Corinthos, Sam was pacing in another part of the convent. This place was her favorite part of the convent, the stained glass throwing colored light onto her, and it was dark enough that if anyone came in, they hopefully wouldn't notice her.

Was this what her life was going to be like from now on? Running from place to place, hoping Jason didn't find her? It had only taken him, what, three weeks to track her down to Costa Rica? Could she really be expected to keep him away forever?

Okay, so if Sam really wanted to keep this child and give it a stable life, then she'd have to work something out with Jason. Maybe visitation--supervised visitation? Would he agree to that? Would she have to go all the way to court? What sane judge would give him custody? Sam's past was far from perfect, of course, but really--then, he could bribe the judge--oh, boy.

Sam was starting to hyperventilate again. This would make one hell of a Sunday school lesson. Don't have one-night-stands, because then you could get pregnant with the child of a brain-damaged, amnesic mob enforcer.

She was screwed. Utterly and completely screwed beyond belief. Sam rubbed her belly unconciously.

"Ms. McCall?"

Sam whirled around. Jesus. There were two huge men in suits coming towards her. Corinthos's men. Automatically, she turned to run down the stairs, and her shoe caught on something, and then...

...she was falling through the air, and then there was darkness.

* * *

To say that Sister Agnes was upset would be a major understatement.

"Look what you've done!" the nun raged. "You came here for your own selfish purposes, and just _look_ at what has happened now!"

Everything was sort of fuzzy for Sam. She was barely aware of the people in white coats...the men in dark suits...all she was aware of was Sister Agnes's angry voice...and the fingers threading gently through her hair.

The baby.

"Uhh...the baby," she moaned, finally snapping out of it. "What's wrong with the baby?"

Jason's face appeared before her, his concern obvious. "The baby's okay, Sam." His fingers were still in her hair, and Sam didn't even mind. "You've got a mild concussion, but the baby's fine--"

"No thanks to you lot," Sister Agnes put in.

Jason turned to her. "Hey, I did _not_ send them after her, all right?"

"Where am I?" Sam put in.

He turned back to her. "You're at the hospital. You fell down the staris, and we rushed you to the hospital...but you're fine now."

"Well, if you didn't send them after her, then who did?" the nun demanded, not letting go.

"Uhh..." Sonny Corinthos stepped out of the shadows, looking slightly abashed. "I, uh, might have told the guys to...you know, keep their eyes open."

Sister Agnes threw up her hands. "I knew it."

"You did _what_?" Jason said, clearly upset. "Sonny--"

"Jason, I was doing what I thought was right--"

Jason slid off the bed, the tension and anger apparent in the set of his shoulders. "Hallway. _Now_." And without another word, Corinthos and his goons followed.

Sam blinked. "Huh."

"Are you all right, dear?" Sister Agnes asked gently.

"No, no, I'm fine." She rubbed her stomach, staring down at it. "Boy, you're one tough cookie, huh?" she said to the baby...fetus...child.

Her child. Her child who was safe, though some apparent miracle...or just the McCall toughness.

_"That's the thing about us McCalls, Sammie-girl. Sure, we can break, but the thing is, we're never broken."_

Sam made Cody's raspy voice fade away, and focused on the reality of this moment. "So, I see you met Jason."

"Yes, and I'm not impressed."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. She laughed because otherwise she would cry, because apparently traveling all the way to Costa Rica hadn't cured her from this bizarre need to believe Jason. To trust him. One look into those clear blue eyes, and she was right back where she was before. Having a strange sort of faith in him despite everything.

Sam heard the rumble of voices outside, and strained to hear.

"It wasn't like we pushed her down the stairs..."

"You came after her, that's all that matters....dammit, it was hard enough trying to get her to trust me before, and now it's going to be even harder."

"Jason, no matter what happens with her, that is still your child. You have rights." Corinthos's voice was confident. "I know you don't want to go to court, but you might not have a choice..."

"Don't listen to them, Samantha," Sister Agnes counseled, her voice urgent.

Sister Agnes was probably right. It could be staged, something to make her believe in Jason, think he was on her side in this. But he had his own agenda that didn't match up with her own, and she needed to remember that.

Sister Agnes patted her hand. "It will be all right, Samantha. Don't worry. Close your eyes and get some rest."

Sam obediently closed her eyes, and she worried.

* * *

_the hotel door just burst open, and there was dad, covered in blood, his face mottled with bruises._

_"dad? daddy?" sam rushed over to her father's side as he collasped on the floor. _

_"hey, sammie," dad wheezed. "it's all right, it's all right."_

_"kid." sam looked up and there were two big men in dark suits. the same men that had showed up yesterday. "listen, kid. in fifteen minutes, i want you to call 911. fifteen minutes, got that?"_

_sam was too scared to speak, so she just nodded._

_"don't come back here, cody," the other one ordered. And then they left._

_sobbing, sam turned back to her father. "daddy?"_

_cody mccall gingerly rolled over onto his back. "it's okay, sammie girl."_

_"who were they?"_

_her father sighed. "bad guys, sam. they were bad guys who work for an even worse man."_

_sam didn't understand. "i don't get it. what were you doing with them?" she was hysterical, and dad had always taught her to keep a cool head, but she couldn't think right now._

_"making a mistake," dad said softly. "if there's one thing i'm gonna teach you, sammie, it's to stay away from the mob, any mob. hear me?"_

_sam nodded. "okay."_

_"that's my girl."_

Sam slowly opened her eyes, and blinked. There was a hand in her hair. As she stirred, the hand was removed, and Sam turned her head.

It was Jason. "Did I wake you?" he asked.

"No," Sam said. She looked at him. "Why do you keep coming after me?"

"Well, why do you keep running?" Jason asked.

"I don't have much of a choice," Sam shot back, sitting up. "What do you expect me to do?"

Jason sighed. "Look, just come back to Port Charles with me and we can work something out."

"No way."

Jason stared at her. "Are you always this stubborn?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah, I am," Sam said. "I'll agree to supervised visitation, but that's it."

"No way in hell," he said promptly.

Sam leaned back against the pillows. "So, what, we go to court to settle this?"

His eyes widened. "No. No, no. I've been through custody battles before, and they suck. For everyone involved." He paused. "Besides, do you even have the money to hire a lawyer?"

He had a point. Damn him. "Go away."

"You keep telling me to do that, and it's not going to happen. I'm not going to turn my back on my child or its mother."

Sam squeezed her eyes shut. God...he actually meant that. He was telling the truth. "You work for the mob," she said hoarsely, not opening her eyes.

"Yes. I do. But that part of my life won't touch you or the baby."

She laughed, opening her eyes. "Liar."

"I don't lie."

"What, is that part of the brain damage?" Jason bowed his head, and Sam wished she hadn't said that. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I don't--I don't know what to do here. I mean, I don't even know you. And here you are, saying all the right things, and I want to believe that you're sincere--but I can't."

He nodded, like he understood. "Because I'm in the mob."

"Well, yeah, and because I don't trust you. Or anyone, really. Ever."

"Not much of a way to live," Jason said gently.

He was right, but that was simply the way it had always been for Sam. Cody had taught her to be a cynical, independant bitch, and when she realized she couldn't even trust her own father, she had turned into even _more_ of a cynical, independant bitch. "I don't have much of a choice."

"Yeah, you do," Jason said, and she could hear the cautious hope in his voice.

She looked up at him. "What do you know about kids?"

He shrugged. "Some. I, uh, raised my nephew for a while, starting right after he was born."

"So...you know about babies."

He shrugged again. "Yeah."

"Huh." Sam considered it. A guy who actually knew about kids, who wanted to be a part of the child's life. He was pretty respectful, and seemed to care about her.

If he wasn't in the mob, she'd say it was a perfect situation.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Let's say, _hypothetically_, that I decided to come back to Port Charles with you. Would I have, like, protection?"

"Yeah," Jason said without hesitation. "The penthouse is incredibly secure, windows are bulletproof, and there'd be bodyguards." He paused. "You two would be safe."

"What, both of us? You--you want _me_ to move in?"

"Yeah."

This was not happening. This could not be happening. "What makes you think I want to move in with you?" she demanded.

"Well, you don't have a home, right?" Jason said.

Sam couldn't believe it. "You--you did a background check on me?"

"Well, you did the same to me!" he shot back. "I don't remember telling you about the accident."

"This is crazy!" she yelled. "God, you--you barge in and complicate my life beyond belief--"

"Hey, it wasn't like I was planning for this either, all right?" Jason yelled right back. "Jesus, Sam, I just got divorced, I wasn't planning on becoming a father. But I am going to become a father, and you know what? I won't regret it. I won't regret being with you that night or coming after you now."

Sam felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Really?" she asked, choking up.

"Yeah," Jason said. "The only thing that I could ever regret is not making this work with you."

Sam was crying. _Crying_. She never cried, ever.

"Just, please, Sam. Trust me." And Jason's eyes were raw and open and honest, just like they had been that night in Jake's eight weeks ago.

And just like it had been back then, Sam couldn't say no.

"All right."

* * *

"You're out of your mind," Sister Agnes declared.

"Probably," Sam agreed readily as she packed her things.

"Then why do this?"

Sam turned to face her. "Because...I trust him. I know all the reasons why I shouldn't, believe me. But I trust him anyway."

Sister Agnes sighed. "Are you sure about this?"

"I'm not sure about anything," she replied.

Jason came in, knocking gently on the door. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Sam said, and started to pick up her bag, but Jason quickly came over and grabbed it for her.

"I got it," he said.

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't stop him. And out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sister Agnes shaking her head. As Jason hefted the suitcase out of the room, Sam started to follow him, but Sister Agnes gripped her by the hand suddenly. "Samantha...if you ever need to return...for any reason, you are always welcome here."

"Thanks," Sam said, touched. "And I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

Sister Agnes smiled. "May God be with you."

* * *

Sonny Corinthos was already on the plane by the time they entered. "Mr. Corinthos," Sam murmered as she sat down.

He smiled at her, dimples suddenly flashing in his cheeks. "Call me Sonny. You're family now."

"Okay," she replied, trying not to think exactly what he meant by "family".

Sonny spent most of his time talking to his wife on the phone. Jason was reading a travel book. Sam drummed her fingers on the table, stared out the window, and finally flipped through a magazine.

A half-hour into the flight, her stomach lurched. "Where's the bathroom?"

"In the back," Sonny said, pointing. Sam quickly got out of her seat and into the backroom, just in time.

While she was emptying out the contents of her stomach, Jason came in, kneeling down next to her. "You all right?"

Sam wearily lifted her head. "Why the hell do they call it morning sickness if it happens all the time?"

"I--I don't know," Jason said, rubbing her on the back.

"You--you didn't have to come in here--"

"I wanted to," he said simply.

_Author's note: First off, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed this, keep the feedback coming! I thought I'd take this time to just answer a few questions. First off, the first few chapters of this story (including this one) have been in Sam's POV entirely. But from now on, I'm writing this from EVERYONE's POV. That means anyone who is involved in this story is fair game. Jason, Lucky, the Quartermaines, Sonny, Carly, Coleman--anyone. Just think of these first four chapters as one really, really, really long prologue. Second, this is a Jason/Sam/Lucky romance. Yeah, I know Lucky and Sam haven't been together on the show. I don't think they've even had a scene together. Hey, this is an AU. I can do whatever I want. Plus, Greg Vaughan is HOT, okay? And as for whoever Sam ends up with...I don't have any more of an idea than you do. Seriously, I haven't made up my mind yet. Sometimes I think I'll go with Jason, other times I think it'll be Lucky, and hey, who knows, maybe I'll put her with Coleman! (Just kidding on the Coleman part. Maybe.) But there you go._


	5. five: a new start

* * *

It was pretty safe to say that Jason was still in a state of disbelief regarding this whole situation. None of this seemed _real_. He and Courtney were divorced, Grandmother was dead, he was about to have a baby with a woman he didn't even really know--

But in a weird way, he technically did know her. Sonny had quickly done a background check on Sam, finding out everything he could. Jason knew where she was born (Houston, Texas), the names of her parents (Cody and Evelyn), the amount of education she'd had, (no college, had earned a GED).

He knew she was a con artist. He knew her father had been a con artist, and he'd been dead for 5 years. He knew she'd traveled all over the country, never staying in one place too long. He knew her mother had remarried and was living in South Carolina.

He knew other things too. He knew the taste of her skin, the curve of her hips. The ease with which they'd fit together. The feel of her soft hair under his fingers.

But Jason tried not to think about that last part.

With a wince, he remembered the blow-up that had happened when Carly found out.

_"Oh, this is unbelievable."_

_"Carly--"_

_"God, Jason, what were you thinking? The ink's barely dry on the divorce papers before you're jumping into bed with some random tramp? What the hell are you going to tell Courtney, anyway?"_

_"I don't know, all right! Is that what you wanna hear?"_

Courtney. Jesus. Sonny had pulled him aside in the hospital in South America to tell him that Carly had already told her the news. Neither one of them knew how Courtney had reacted, Carly's message had simply said that Courtney knew about the pregnancy. Given the brevity of the message, it was pretty clear that Courtney hadn't reacted the way Carly had hoped for--namely, that she hadn't yelled and immediately started plotting wild schemes to get back together with him.

After all, Courtney was with Jax now, right? Jason frowned--Carly had said something about a bet--but then, it wasn't any of his business. Not anymore.

He snuck a glance at Sam. She was sleeping, her head propped up against the car window. She didn't fully trust him, that was obvious. He couldn't really blame her.

Jason's gaze traveled down to her stomach. A baby. Jesus Christ.

"We're here," Sonny announced abruptly.

Jason reached over and gently shook Sam's shoulder. "Hey."

She stirred. "What is it?"

"We're here," he explained.

"Oh," she said, stretching again. "Okay." They got out of the limo and Jason observed the way her eyes widened. "Wow. Who owns this place?"

"Me," Sonny said.

She nodded. "Right. Of course you do."

* * *

When Sonny walked into his penthouse, Carly was waiting for him. "Hey," he said softly. "What are you doing still up?"

"Okay, you have to tell me everything," Carly insisted. "What's this girl like?"

Sonny shrugged. "I don't know. We didn't really talk all that much. She's, you know, a little freaked out by the business, but I think she'll get over it."

Carly nodded. "Well, did--did it seem like she was using Jason, or manipulating him at all?"

"No," Sonny said. "Carly, Jason can take care of himself."

She pouted slightly, but said nothing in response. After a moment, she asked, "What the hell is Jason thinking? He's ruining any chance of getting back together with Courtney--"

"I know," Sonny said. "But you know, there's a kid involved. Jason has to do what's right."

"So, is she pretty?"

Sonny scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. I guess. Yeah, she--" He stopped abruptly. _She looks just like Brenda_, was what he had been about to say. But Carly wouldn't appreciate that. "Hey, let's, uh, let's just go to bed. You can meet her in the morning and make up your own mind."

"All right."

* * *

The doorbell rang. Groaning, Jason came downstairs to answer it. When he saw who was at the door, he groaned again. "Carly, what are you doing?"

"Dropping by," she chirped.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jason asked, perilously close to whining.

"9:30." Carly pushed past him into the apartment. "So, where is she?"

"Sam? She's upstairs, sleeping. It was a long flight."

Carly nodded. "So, she'll stay here with you until she finds a place to live. All right. Hey, did you make coffee?"

Oh, shit. As Carly walked into the kitchen, Jason followed her and tried to think of the best way to tell her. "Carly--Sam's not going anywhere."

Carly blinked at him, the coffee pot in her hand. "She's staying in the building?"

Jason just looked at her, knowing she wasn't this dense. But if she needed him to spell it out, then fine. "Sam is going to stay here in the apartment with me."

He just knew there was going to be an explosion, and sure enough there was. "You have got to be kidding," Carly gasped. "Wait, what am I thinking? You never kid."

"Carly--"

"So, just what is the game plan here, huh?" she demanded.

"Carly, this kid deserves two parents, all right?" Jason said, slightly irritated. He'd barely gotten any sleep, hadn't had any coffee, much less breakfast, and Carly was here. It was the perfect recipe for a migraine, which to Jason's horror, he was starting to develop. If he was going to face a worked up Carly, he _needed_ caffiene.

"And I agree," Carly said, "but that does not mean you have to move her in here."

"Yeah, actually, it does," he snapped, rooting around in the cabinets. "You seen the coffee filter?"

"Jason! Are you out of your mind?" Carly shrieked. "You--you're just going to pretend to be this one big happy family? God, you don't even love her--"

"She's carrying my child."

"Then pay her off!" Carly was clearly at the end of her rope. "She's a con artist, I'm sure that if you flash enough money in front of her, she will gladly take off and leave the baby with you--"

"Ahem."

Jason and Carly turned to see Sam standing the doorway, her expression unreadable. Shit. "Hello," Sam said, her voice even.

"Carly," Jason said quietly, "maybe you should go." Carly looked like she was about to say something, but Jason shut her up with a look. Glaring at Sam, she quickly walked out. Jason followed her and shut the door.

He turned to Sam. "You, uh, you weren't supposed to hear that." Sam just looked at him, and awkwardly, he continued. "That--was, uh, Carly. She's Sonny's wife, she's an old friend, and well, she really doesn't know when to mind her own business--"

"So, is she always that much of a bitch?" Sam asked point-blank.

Jason fought down the urge to laugh. "Look, she's still kind of hoping that Courtney and I are going to get back together, even it's not going to happen--"

"You sure about that?" she asked. "I mean, because I know I agreed to live here, but if you and your ex-wife aren't really over--"

"We're over," he said firmly. "She can't handle what I do, and I've accepted that, and it's over. The marriage is over."

Sam nodded. "All right." She paused, looking around. "Are--are you making coffee?"

"Uh, yeah."

She groaned. "Oh, no."

Jason was confused. "What, you don't like coffee?"

"No, I love coffee. That's the problem."

Now he was even more confused. "Why is that a problem?"

She stared at him as if he was an idiot. "I'm _pregnant_," she hissed. "I can't have coffee!"

Jason blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, apparently, caffiene is bad for the baby," Sam said, pouting. "Which, you know, pretty much sucks, because I usually can't even _function_ in the morning unless I have coffee."

"Are you sure you can't have any?" Jason asked. "I mean, I don't think it's on the same level as alcohol--"

"Jason, I've had two miscarriage scares, all right? I--I don't want to risk anything." Sam glanced at the coffeepot. "Can--can you just pour it out?"

Jason's shoulders slumped. He hadn't even had a sip...Sighing loudly, he went to the coffee machine, turned it off. While he was dumping out the coffee, Sam rooted around in the refridgerator. "Unbelievable," he heard her mutter.

"What? What is it?"

Sam looked at him. "Jason, when was the last time you went grocery shopping?"

He thought. "Dunno. Why?"

She glanced back down into the fridge. "Because the only two things I see here is a apple and a six-pack of beer."

"You're kidding." He stepped quickly over to her side to see that yes, she was right. "Oh, man."

"Yeah. Now, that apple is looking kind of moldy, and unless you want me to crack open a Heineken..."

"Okay, so it's been a really long while since I went grocery shopping," Jason admitted.

"Yeah, no kidding," she muttered. "You know, I figured you for the domestic beer."

"Allright, listen, why don't we just go to Kelly's?" he suggested. "You ever been to Kelly's?"

* * *

Jason watched her in fascination. "Wow. How—how did you eat all that?"

Sam grinned at him. "Hello, I'm eating for two."

"Yeah, but...damn," Jason said in flat-out admiration.

She pointed her fork at his sausages. "Are you gonna eat those?"

Jason quickly handed his plate over to her. "Here. Have them."

Mike walked over to them. "Anything else I can get you two?"

"Wait five minutes and she'll order a whole other course," Jason said, only half-joking. Sam mock-gasped and hit him on the shoulder.

"Nice," she said. "You know, I'm probably just going to be throwing it up again in a minute or so."

"Hey, come on now. Think positive," Jason said. "You won't be throwing it up in a minute or so. Five to ten, tops."

She hit him again, and at that precise moment, Jason saw Courtney walk in with Jax. He could feel the smile on his face fading away.

Sam noticed. "What's wrong?" she asked, swiveling in her chair. "Oh. Wow." She turned back to face him, her eyebrows raised. "Is this going to be awkward or what?"

"You--you know Courtney?"

Sam shrugged, looking down. "Yeah, you know. I saw the two of you together once. It was--" she chuckled grimly, "--the day I got the pregnancy tests from the pharmacy, actually."

"Was that why you didn't tell me?"

She shrugged. "No. Well--maybe, a little. I mean, I saw the way you were looking at her, and I just..."

"Hey," Courtney said, stepping up to them. "Jason."

"Courtney," Jason said simply. He glanced at Sam, who was shrinking down in her seat like this was the last place she wanted to be. Hell, _he_ didn't want to be there either right now. "Uh, Courtney, this is Sam McCall. Sam, this is Courtney Matthews."

"Hello," Sam said.

"Nice to meet you," Courtney said politely, if a bit awkwardly.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" a broad Australian voice inquired. Jason's shoulders tensed.

"Jax," he said coolly.

"Jason." Jax glanced down at Sam. "And who's this?"

Jason gritted his teeth. "Sam, this is Jasper Jacks. He, uh, works with Courtney."

"Nice to meet you," Sam said.

"Likewise."

Courtney cleared her throat. "Listen, um, we're hosting a benefit for the foundation in a couple of weeks, and you should come."

Jason blinked. As Grandmother would have said, he was flabbergasted. "We should?"

"They should?" Jax asked, looking as surprised as Jason was.

"Yeah," Courtney said, glaring at Jax for a split-second. "There's no reason we all can't be civil to each other."

"I can think of a couple reasons," Jax muttered, and as much as he hated to, Jason agreed with him.

Courtney not-so-subtly nudged him in the side. "So, will you come?"

Jason glanced at Sam, who looked as bewildered as he felt. He said slowly, "Uhh...if--if you're sure you want us there, then--"

"I do," Courtney said firmly.

"Then--then we'll be there."

"Great," she said, smiling brightly.

Jax put a hand on Courtney's elbow. "Yeah. Listen, Courtney, we should really get going, we have that meeting with the rest of the board..."

"Right, right," Courtney said. "Bye."

"See you," Jason muttered.

Once Courtney and Jax had finally left, Sam said, "Okay, what was that?"

"I have no clue," Jason muttered, shaking his head.

"Because that was bizarre," Sam continued. "I mean, she has every reason to hate the sight of me--"

"More than you know," Jason muttered, running a hand over his face.

"What, there's more?"

Jason leaned back in his chair. He hadn't wanted to discuss this with her. But she had asked, and he wasn't going to lie. "When Courtney and I were married...she, uh, she miscarried our baby. After that, she could no longer have kids ever...and...it was real hard on us, that's all."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "Oh God. I'm--I'm so sorry." She gently laid her warm hand on top of his. "No wonder you tried so hard to find me."

He nodded, glad she understood now. "I just--I couldn't lose another one of my children."

They were silent for a minute. Finally, Sam said, "But...if anything, that would give Courtney more reason to avoid me. Why on earth would she invite us to that benefit?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

"All right," Jax said once they'd left Kelly's. "What was that all about?"

Courtney turned to face him with a sigh. "That was me being an adult."

"And I would applaud, under other circumstances, but this is insane."

Courtney hesitated. "Look, when I found out...about Sam, it hurt. A lot. More than I thought it would. And I just...want to make sure I can handle this."

"You want to make sure you're over Jason," Jax realized.

"No, I know I'm over Jason. But he's going to be living here with Sam and his child, and I want to know that I can deal with that."

"So, you're going to put yourself through hell to prove you can take it?" Jax asked in disbelief.

"It won't be hell," she said, trying to convince him and herself. "I'll be fine."

_Author's note: Man, you guys have to be tired of this by now, right? Don't worry, this is short. I'm just going to tell you that some of the things that happen in this story will mirror what happened on the actual show. And for the record, Lucky will make an appearance in the next chapter._


	6. six: carly, what a big mouth you have

_

* * *

Author's note: See if you guys can spot the homage to the TWoP forums. _

* * *

"This is a really nice place," she murmered, looking around. 

"So," Jason continued, "your room opens into a den, thought we could use that for the nursery...and there's another room down the hall that the nanny could use--"

"Nanny?" Sam repeated. "We're--we're going to have a nanny?"

"Well, uh, you know, just until you learn about taking care of kids. I mean, when I was raising Michael, I don't think I would have managed at all without a nanny," Jason said.

"Yeah, no, that makes sense," she agreed. "Hey, um, you want to play some pool?" she asked, glancing at the pool table.

Jason raised an eyebrow, and Sam flushed, remembering their last game...and how it had ended. "Or maybe not," she muttered. "Yeah, that's a bad idea."

The doorbell rang. Jason went to answer it. "Hey, Uncle Jason!" a little boy with red hair said as he and Carly Corinthos walked in.

"Hey, Michael," Jason said easily, then glanced towards Sam. Sam just stared at him. It wasn't like she knew what to do.

Jason solved the problem. "Uh, Michael, I want you to meet someone. This is Sam."

"Hello," Michael said.

"Hi, nice to meet you," Sam said as she shook his hand.

"Dad said that you were pregnant."

Well, this kid knew how to get straight to the point. "Yeah, yeah, I am," Sam said.

Jason added. "Yeah, you're going to have a little cousin to play with."

"Cool!" Michael said, grinning. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. At least someone was thrilled for them.

Carly interrupted. "Hey, Jason, I was wondering, since you're not going to the benefit, if you wouldn't mind staying with Michael and Morgan that night."

Jason straightened. "I'd love to, but I can't."

"Why not?" Michael asked.

"Well...because Sam and I are going to the banquet too."

Carly's eyes grew huge. "You're what? But--Courtney's hosting the benefit."

Sam stared at the floor. "She invited us," Jason said calmly.

"You know what?" Sam cut in. "I have to...um...go see someone. I'll be back soon."

She stepped around Carly and left the apartment, gently shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Hesitantly, she walked in the door. Sam wasn't sure how welcome she'd be in here, but she had to stop by and see him. 

Coleman glanced up, then looked back down at the glass he was polishing. "You're back."

"Yeah, I am." Sam walked up to the bar. "Jason found me in Costa Rica, and uh, we talked, and I agreed to move in with him."

"So, what, you came here to ask me to help you pick out your coffin? You know, I could get you a really good deal—"

"Coleman, don't." Sam said, sighing. "Look, I appreciate all your help, but it didn't do any good. Jason still found me. What was I supposed to do, keep running for the rest of my life?"

Coleman glared at her. "I'll tell you what you're _not_ supposed to do: move in with that guy."

Sam stared down at her feet. "Jason's not that bad," she said quietly.

Coleman laughed in disbelief. "Not that bad... baby, he's dead inside. _Dead_, you hear me? Have you ever looked into that man's eyes? I have, darling, and let me tell you what I saw: nothing."

Sam swallowed hard. "Look, I just came here to tell you that I'm back in town, and that I'm all right. I didn't come here to fight."

Coleman shook his head and set the glass down. He braced his hands on the wood, and looked up. "How's the baby?"

Sam smiled softly. "All right. I had a slight scare in Costa Rica, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I—fell down the stairs. Long story."

"But you're all right?" Coleman asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, smiling. "Hey, I almost forgot to ask—did you find the treasure?"

Coleman sighed, loudly. "Didn't have a chance. Right after you left, Emily Quartermaine and Nikolas Cassadine discovered the ships."

"Oh, man," Sam said, disappointed. "I'm sorry, Coleman."

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Besides," he added, grinning, "a few of those coins were, uh, misplaced, if you catch my drift."

Sam grinned at him. "Not bad."

At that moment, a large man in a suit walked in. "Ms. McCall?"

Sam turned around. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm Max. Mr. Morgan sent me after you."

Coleman snorted. "Here we go."

"Excuse me?" Sam said in disbelief. "He what?"

"He sent me after you. I'm your new bodyguard, and Mr. Morgan, he was worried when he heard you were coming here—"

Sam threw up her hands. "Unbelievable. He had me _followed_?"

"I told you," Coleman interjected. "I told you this was going to happen."

Sam folded her arms, defiant. "All right, and I suppose you're here to save me from the big, bad bartender?"

"Nice alliteration," Coleman commented.

Max shifted his weight. "Ms. McCall—"

"Oh, call me Sam. Why be formal with the woman you're about to drag off like some caveman?" She turned to Coleman. "You got a phone?"

* * *

Jason was in the middle of a meeting with Sonny when his cell phone rang. "Hello?" 

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" an angry female voice yelled on the other end. "You're having me followed, you send your goon after me—"

"Well, what are you doing at Jake's? You're _pregnant_, for Christ's sake!" Jason shot back.

"I wasn't going to get tanked, Jason, I just came to talk to Coleman!"

"Well, that's not good either!" Jason said. "Sam, listen to me, you cannot trust that guy—"

"Sure I can," Sam responded. "You know what, Jason? I _do_ trust Coleman. I trust him a hell of a lot more than I trust you right now, and if you ever, _ever_ pull a stunt like this again, you will regret it."

_Click._ Jason stared at the phone for a moment. "She hung up," he said blankly.

"She, uh, didn't take it well, huh?" Sonny concluded.

"Nope," he admitted. "Jesus, I _told_ her she would need protection—and why does she like Coleman so much, anyway?"

Sonny just shrugged in response.

Jason grabbed his jacket. "I've got to go get her."

"Good luck," Sonny called after him.

* * *

When Jason arrived at Jake's, Sam was sitting at the bar, chatting with Coleman. "Sam, what are you doing?" 

Sam turned to face him, her entire stance one of defiance. "Talking with my friend Coleman. We've been doing some shots, smoking some cigarettes...we're about to shoot up some cocaine next, so if you want to join us..."

"Sam--"

"You had your goons follow me," she snarled. "You spied on me, then you sent your goons after me to bring me home like some wayward child."

"Sam, we talked about this. You need protection—"

"And I understand that, but you have no right to treat me as though I'm a piece of property!" she yelled at him.

"You're carrying my kid! I have a right to worry—"

Sam slid off the stool, fire in her gaze. "Let's get something straight, Jason. You do not have the right to tell me where to go, or who I can talk to. If you can't deal with that, then maybe it's a good thing we find out now." She folded his arms, waiting for his answer.

He made one last stab. "It's a _bar_, Sam."

"It's a bar that isn't even _open_, and besides, I just came here to talk to Coleman."

"About what?" he asked.

"None of your business," Sam responded.

"Max is still going to be your bodyguard," he told her.

"Fine. And I talk to whoever I want to."

He sighed. "Fine. Now, we have to go shopping. Unless you've got a dress for the benefit already..."

* * *

"So, um, what exactly do you do?" Sam asked on the way to the stores. "Like, seriously." 

Jason shrugged. "We import coffee."

Sam rolled her eyes. Did he seriously expect her to believe that? "Come on, Jason, for real. What do you and Cor--Sonny really do?"

Jason leaned back against the seat. "We, uh, we're smugglers. The coffee is a front."

"Well, what do you smuggle?" Sam asked with curiousity.

Jason glanced at her for a moment. Then he turned his gaze back to the road. "Bootleg porn. Gay porn, mostly."

Sam's eyes grew huge. No way. "Bootleg _what_?"

"Pretty lucrative business," Jason said casually, as if they were dicussing the weather. "Lot more money in it than you would think."

She could only stare at him. Did--did this mean--was he playing for the other team? But...he sure as hell hadn't been faking that night in Jake's...maybe he swung both ways.

Okay, so the father of her child was possibly gay or bisexual. This could work. It was the twenty-first century. Things like this were more common now, she could make this work. "So, ahem...you're..."

Just then, she saw the slightest smile quirking at his lips and quickly realized--"You bastard!" she cried out, smacking him on the arm.

He started chuckling. "You should have seen the look on your face...you looked like you were about to choke."

Sam fumed. "Very funny, Jason."

"It was, wasn't it?" Jason asked, smiling at her.

"Okay, then, what do you smuggle for real?"

He sighed. "Anything the other guy wants. Mostly weapons. But once, a couple years ago, we really _did_ have to ship gay porn for this really old, really rich customer. You should have seen the look on Sonny's face when he heard...his ears _still_ turn red if you ever mention it."

"Ever sell drugs?" Sam asked.

"No," Jason said firmly. "No way. Sonny won't allow it."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "A mob boss with principles? That's...unusual."

Jason didn't comment as he went into the parking lot. "We're here," he said.

* * *

Dress shopping. Almost four hours of shopping and she _still_ hadn't found a dress. Jason had gotten a tux and shoes within the first half-hour, why couldn't she find a dress? 

Jason leaned back in his chair. "Sam, you done yet?"

"Just a second!" she called out. Finally, she stepped outside and--"Whoa," he said quietly.

She looked absolutely gorgeous. Sam was wearing this silver dress, and her hair was tumbling down around her shoulders, and the material was just clinging to her curves and--wow.

She smiled at him. "Yeah? It's—it's okay?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

"Are you just saying this so you can get the hell out of here?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in a way that made her glossy hair slide around her face.

"No," Jason said. "I'm saying this because...because you look great." And then he smirked slightly. "_And _because I want to get the hell out of here."

She laughed. "Okay, okay, you win. We're out of here."

"Thank God," he muttered loudly as she went back into the dressing room.

Sam yelled over her shoulder, "I heard that!"

* * *

"Okay," Sam said slowly inside the limo. "What's the game plan here? We—we make an appearance, and then leave as soon as we can?" 

"Yeah, pretty much," Jason agreed. He glanced at her, her face drawn tight with apprehension. "Listen...this'll be fine."

She sighed. "Okay."

The limo stopped. "All right, we're here," Jason said. "Let's do this." He stepped out of the limo and offered her his hand. Sam took it, Sam stepped out, nearly stumbling but regained her footing at the last minute.

The first thing Sam was aware of as they walked into the room was the quiet. The way people stared at her and Jason, then would immediately start whispering among themselves. Silently willing herself not to blush, Sam focused simply on not tripping on her dress.

Courtney appeared in front of them, looking fantastic. "Wow, you guys made it."

"Yeah, well, we said we'd be here," Jason said.

"And here we are," Sam finished. "This all looks..._really_ amazing. You guys did a great job."

"Thanks," Courtney said, smiling a bit awkwardly. "Um...Sonny and Carly are already here, dinner will be served in about an hour, you can get drinks at the bar...or, um, non-alcoholic drinks are available too..."

Sam quickly decided the best option was to get out of this as soon as possible. "Hey, you know what? I actually am kind of thirsty, so, uh, I'll go and get some water."

"I'll go with you--" Jason offered, but Sam waved a hand.

"No, no, that's all right. You can, um, stay here." And with that, Sam quickly left the two of them alone.

God, that was awkward as hell. Sam hadn't even been here five minutes and she was already miserable. What was she doing here? Sam was a con artist, a hustler--she didn't belong at fancy, black-tie events.

Okay. All right, so they'd made their appearance. Maybe she could talk Jason into leaving earlier than they'd planned...Sam walked up to the bar, where there wasn't anyone there except for an older blonde woman sipping champane. "Hey, um, could I just have a glass of water with a twist of lemon, please?"

As the bartender went to get it, the older woman standing next to Sam said, "Fabulous champane, I highly recommend it."

Sam smiled ruefully. "Can't, I--"

"I'm sorry, but Sam can't drink. Not in her condition."

Sam's shoulders stiffened. Carly. God. Pasting a tight smile on her face, Sam turned to face her. "Hey, Carly."

Carly's answering smile was just as tight. "Hello, Sam. Dr. Quartermaine."

Sam's eyes widened. Oh, no. Of all the things to happen...clearly, Sam had the worst luck ever. Of all the people to run into, she had to run right into a member of Jason's family? Jason's _estranged_ family? And Carly too?

She was so screwed.

"Carly," Dr. Quartermaine said coolly. Judging from the looks the two were giving each other, they didn't seem to get along all that well. That didn't surprise Sam, as she didn't think _anyone_ could get along well with Carly.

"Sam," Carly said, "I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Monica Quartermaine, Jason's mother."

Sam, who had been taking a sip of her water, nearly choked. _Jesus_. "Uh, nice to meet you--"

"Likewise," Dr. Quartermaine rsponded, looking slightly bewildered as to why Carly was bothering to introduce her to her son's date.

Sam knew why Carly was doing this though. And if she wasn't desperately trying to figure out a way to get out of this situation, she'd almost admire Carly's nerve.

"So," Carly continued with a big grin on her face, "have you heard the good news?"

At that precise moment, Sam's heart stopped in her chest.

Dr. Quartermaine blinked, looking from Carly to Sam to Carly again. "Um, no, I haven't."

"Carly," Sam muttered, trying to head her off.

"Sam's pregnant," Carly said abruptly.

To say that Dr. Quartermaine looked surprised would have been a huge understatement. "Excuse me?" she finally managed to get out, her voice strangled.

"She's pregnant. You know, knocked up? Got a bun in the oven? Yeah, she's about, what, three months now?"

Sam was silently praying to God to just let the ground swallow her up whole. Or maybe He could just strike Carly dead. Either scenario would work for her.

Dr. Quartermaine looked as if she didn't know what to think, much less say. "Is...um...is the child..."

"Jason's?" Carly finished for her. "Yeah, unfortunately it is." She knocked back half of her glass of champane.

Now Dr. Quartermaine looked as if she could easily faint. Sam decided to make as graceful an exit as possible. "Excuse me," she said, staring at the floor, the wall, anything other than the soon-to-be grandmother of her unborn child, "I have to go--somewhere that isn't here."

Pushing through the crowd, Sam went outside into the gardens. The June night was warm, with a slight breeze cooling her flushed cheeks.

Holy _shit_. How had that happened? And what the hell was Carly's problem? Clearly, that woman wasn't playing with a full deck of cards, or maybe she just had a black hole where her sense of compassion and respect for others should have been.

The look on Monica Quartermaine's face...

Shaking slightly, Sam stumbled towards the nearest bench...only to find that it was already occupied. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, trying to be polite. "I didn't know anyone was here."

"No, it's okay," the man said. He was a good-looking guy, from what Sam could tell in this darkness. Dark hair, classic good looks, with a cleft in his chin... "Formal events aren't really my thing...so here I am, hiding out here. I take it you're out here for the same reason?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted with a shaky laugh. "That and the fact that there's someone in there who seems completely determined to make my life a living hell."

The guy winced. "Ouch. Sorry to hear it. Hey, listen...you know, we can share this bench, if you don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," the guy said, giving her a quick smile. "Absolutely."

Sam sat down on the stone bench. "Thanks. I'm Sam, by the way," she said, offering her hand.

The guy took it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lucky. Lucky Spencer."

* * *

_Author's note: Dun dun dun! Told you Lucky was going to show up._


	7. seven: welcome to the quartermaines, sam

_Author's note: Okay, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far. And NEm fans, you might not like a few bits in this._

* * *

Dazed, Monica walked away from Carly without saying a word. That girl, a complete stranger, was pregnant with Jason's child. Another grandchild, another Quartermaine.

Dear God.

Monica didn't know what to think. Was this going to be like Carly and Michael all over again? Would this be yet another disappointment, another heartbreak? Still...it was something to look forward to, especially after Lila's death. The arrival of another grandchild.

At any rate, the family needed to know.

She found her husband, chatting politely with Mac Scorpio. "Alan," she said quietly, "we have to talk."

* * *

"So...how are you?" Jason asked quietly.

Courtney shrugged. "I'm okay. You know, Jason...I'm happy for you. Honestly."

"Really?" Jason asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, you were meant to be a dad. And now you're finally getting that chance."

"Yeah," Jason said. "Listen, Courtney...just for the record, Sam and I...we aren't in love. This...is just about the baby, and giving it the best life possible."

She shook her head. "You don't need to explain anything to me--"

"No, I want to," he insisted. "I don't know what you thought when you heard that Sam was pregnant, so soon after the divorce, but...it just happened." He shook his head. "God, that sounded lame."

"No, Jason--it's okay. Really. You've moved on, so have I."

Jason nodded in agreement. "I--hope you're happy with Jax. But really, Courtney, couldn't you pick another guy? One who's not so...smug?"

Courtney laughed. "There is nothing going on between me and Jax." At Jason's disbelieving look, she insisted, "There isn't! There's this bet--"

Jason smiled as she explained the details of her bet with Jax. It sounded insane, but Courtney seemed like she was having fun turning down Jax at every opportunity. "You're crazy," he told her. "You know that right? And if Mike finds out the specifics...he'll kill Jax, and then lock you up in a convent."

"It's ten million dollars, Jason!" she said. "Besides...my dad's not going to find out. And you cannot tell him."

"I won't, I won't," Jason promised. It was the least he could do for her. "I can't say anything for Sonny though...you know how much he despises Jax."

"Yeah, well, I'll just deal with it when the time comes," Courtney said, smiling.

Jason paused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Courtney's smile flickered for a second. And under the relaxed attitude and jokes...Jason could see the pain in her blue eyes. Then the bravado returned. "Yeah, I'm fine. Seriously, I'm okay."

Jason was about to insist that she talk to him, really talk to him, but then he caught a glimpse of Sam at the bar...with Monica and Carly.

Holy shit.

"What is it?" Courtney asked, seeing that there was something wrong from his face. She turned around. "Oh. That--wow. What is Carly _saying_?"

"It's Carly, it could be anything," Jason muttered, watching them. He couldn't see much, they were across the room, but still...it didn't look good.

"Jason, when I invited you guys over, this was not what I had in mind, I swear--"

"I know," he groaned. "I--Jesus, I have to get over there." Just then, he saw Sam run off. Not a second later, Monica walked away as well in the opposite direction.

Jason manuvered through the crowd until he finally got over to Carly. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded.

"Nothing," she replied. Carly turned to the bartender. "Can I get another one of these?"

"Carly! What did you say?"

She didn't look at him. "I just told Monica the good news, that's all."

Jesus Christ. "You did what?" he yells. Unbelievable. Carly had always been a meddler, but he'd never thought..."Carly, look, I know you're upset that Courtney and I split up and that Sam's pregnant. But get the hell over it already, because Sam's not going anywhere. So do me a favor, and stop messing around with my life, okay?" He stomped off without looking back.

* * *

"So, Lucky, why are you hiding out here?" Sam asked.

He shrugged. "Don't know. There's no one to really talk to. My brother's in there, snuggling with his fiance, and I can only take those two together in small doses." God, did it feel good to say that out loud. "I mean, I love them, but they're so..."

"Sweet and sappy it makes you want to choke?" Sam finished for him, smiling.

Wow, she was pretty. Lucky realized it all of a sudden. Great smile, pretty face, soft-looking skin...."Yeah," he agreed, trying to get ahold of himself. "What about you?"

Sam put her face in her hands. "Ugh. It's a long story."

"I have time," he said, smiling. "Not like there's anyone else here to talk to." And there wasn't. Elizabeth was at home with her baby, and Emily and Nikolas were glued to each other...plus, all they wanted to talk about was their upcoming wedding. Lucky loved them, and he was thrilled to be their best man, but that did not mean he wanted to talk about engraved wedding invitations for the entire evening.

"Oh, so what, I'm a last resort for you?"

Lucky pretended to consider it. "Well, you know, I like to think of it as the only possibility for conversation left available..."

"Oh, nice!" Sam protested, but she was laughing anyway. "Basically, I'm hiding away from Carly Corinthos before she can humiliate me anymore."

Lucky winced in sympathy. "Ooh. I can understand that." He didn't know why Carly had it out for Sam, but that was one point in Sam's favor. Anybody who Carly disliked couldn't be all that bad.

"What, you know her?" Sam asked, strands of dark hair framing her face. Very soft--looking hair...he really had to stop thinking like this.

"Yeah, you could say that," Lucky said. "She's my cousin."

"Wow. Boy, do I feel sorry for you," Sam said. "No offense."

"None taken," Lucky said. "Carly...doesn't really have all that much to do with the rest of the Spencers, anyway. She's pretty wrapped up in her marriage to Sonny. And since I'm a cop..."

"Wait, you're a cop?" Sam asked.

He watched her carefully. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"No," she said. "I've got to warn you though, I haven't always been on the right side of the law..."

"You and most of the people in this town," Lucky said, smiling. "Including my own dad. He's...well, let's just say the man is complex. He's charming, witty, eccentric, and he has a truckload of issues."

"Oh, can I relate to that," Sam said. "My dad was a con artist who dragged me all around the country while he scammed people. Your dad still around?"

"Depends what you mean by around?" Lucky said, sighing. "He's alive...I think. He's kind of missing. Took off. It was really complicated...but then, so is everything with my dad. I mean, I love him...but I do not understand him at all."

"But he loves you, right?"

"Yeah," Lucky said.

Her smile was bittersweet. "More than I ever had with my dad. To him, I was a partner-in-crime, a fellow hustler. But never a daughter."

The sadness in her voice made him want to...do something, like pat her on the shoulder. But he didn't. "What about your mom?"

Sam let out a bitter laugh. "My mom? She left when I was a baby, and--when I tracked her down years later, she didn't want anything to do with me. She didn't want me ruining the perfect life she had." She blinked. "Wow. I--usually don't blurt all that out to someone I don't know--"

Lucky shrugged. "Well, I've never admitted to anyone before that I can't handle being around Nikolas and Emily for too long, so we're even."

* * *

"Jason?"

Jason inwardly groaned. Alan. Shit. He turned around. "What is it?"

Alan's jaw was clenched. "We need to talk. Now." And with that, he grabbed Jason by the sleeve and started to drag him off to another room. Jason's first instinct was to shrug him off, but the older man's grip was like iron.

They came into the room, where Monica, Tracy, Edward, Ned, Dillon, Justus, and Emily were all waiting. Jason's shoulders slumped in depression. He had to face down the entire clan?

There was silence for a very long moment. None of the Quartermaines seemed to know where to start, and _he_ wasn't about to say anything.

Finally, Edward spoke. "This is an outrage."

Jason bristled. "Watch it," he growled.

Edward ignored him. "Why on earth didn't you tell us? We had a right to know!"

Despite himself, Jason responded. "Things have been kinda hectic."

"Hectic," Alan echoed sarcastically. "And I suppose you couldn't take five minutes away from doing...whatever it is you do for Sonny Corinthos to tell us, your _family_, that there would be another addition to the Quartermaines?"

Jason rubbed his face in frustration. He had _known_ coming to this benefit would be a bad idea.

* * *

"Oh, you are such a liar," Sam declared. "You've been presumed dead and brainwashed by your half-brother's murderous family? No way."

"Yes, way," Lucky said, grinning. "And that's not even the half of it."

Sam studied him. "You...you really aren't lying?"

"Nope."

"Oh, dear God," Sam said blankly. "And this kind of stuff is _normal_ for this town?"

Lucky thought it over. "Yeah, pretty much," he said brightly.

"I am so screwed," she muttered.

Just then, Justus Ward walked into the gardens. "Man, am I glad to get out of there," he muttered to himself.

"What's going on, Justus?" Lucky asked him.

Justus saw them. "Oh, hey. Nothing, just another Quartermaine battle."

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucky thought he saw Sam stiffen. "Really?" she asked. "What--what about?"

Justus just looked at her. "I think you know," he said gently.

Sam's shoulders slumped. "Oh God."

Confused, Lucky stared at her. "What's wrong?"

Sam gave him a sheepish smile. "In all the time that we were talking...did I mention that I was pregnant with Jason Morgan's child...or that Carly just told the Quartermaines, who had no idea about any of it up until now?"

Lucky's eyes grew ridiculously wide. Whoa. "No, you didn't," he said slowly.

"Sure about that?"

"I think I'd remember," he said flatly. Holy crap. The first nice, smart, attractive woman he'd met in ages...and she was involved with Jason Morgan. It just figured.

"Oh, well, I am." Sam put her face in her hands. "God...they're freaking out, aren't they?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Justus said.

Sam stood up. "Okay, let's go."

"What...you--you _want_ to get involved?" Lucky asked. "Sam, I don't know about that. The Quartermaine battles are not something you want to get involved in."

"I _am_ involved," she pointed out. "I'm right in the middle of this already. So, come on, let's go."

* * *

"Oh my God," Sam moaned.

Justus, standing next to her, shook his head. "Welcome to the Quartermaines, Sam." It was a miracle she could even hear him over all the yelling.

"Jason, you should have _told_ us--"

"Who is this girl, anyway?"

"Well, you certainly didn't waste any time, did you?"

"Tracy, stay out of it!"

"Well, really, he just got divorced--"

Sam'd had enough. Quickly, she grabbed a chair and dragged it into the middle of the crowd. Standing up on it, she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. "Excuse me!"

They all fell silent. "Thank you," Sam said loudly, glancing around. The Quatermaines were all looking at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Lucky gave her a discreet thumbs-up. Jason just looked stunned.

"Clearly," Sam said, smiling tightly, "you're all aware that I'm pregnant. And yes, Jason is the father. Now, all of you can disapprove, but that's the way it is. And if you want to argue and rage over it, then fine. But leave me out of it."

The room was eerily silent. Not a word out of any of them. Sam stepped off the chair and turned to Jason. "And as for _you_, you unbelievable jackass--"

Jason's eyes grew huge. "Me! What the hell did I do?"

Sam poked him in the chest. "What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded. "How could you not tell them?"

"Sam--"

She held up a hand. "Jason, I get that you don't get along with your family. But for God's sake, you should have told them! But nooo, you couldn't be bothered!" Sam watched several members of Jason's family nod in agreement. "And, not only did you not tell them, you didn't even have the simple courtesy to warn _me _beforehand that they had no idea!"

"Listen, Sam--" Jason started, but she was in no mood to hear it.

"Please, Jason, clue me in on your thought process here. Just what were you thinking? You bring me here, knowing the Quartermaines are going to attend, and you don't even give me a heads-up?" Sam was really getting worked up by this point. "God, Jason, even a--a warning in the limo, like 'hey, Sam, my family doesn't know I knocked you up, so just avoid them' would have been better than your mother staring at me as if I'd suddenly sprouted a third eye!"

"Are you finished?" Jason asked while she caught her breath.

Sam took a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Okay then. Can we please get out of here and talk about this somewhere else?"

"Oh, no," Sam said briskly. "I'm done." She brushed past him and he grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Sam--"

Sam whirled around. In a falsely calm voice, she said, "I am going to go into the bathroom and be sick, because the morning sickness is acting up again. Then I'm going home. And if you have even an _ounce_ of self-preservation in your body--you will not follow me to the bathroom, and you won't come home for another three hours. Got that?"

Jason simply nodded, clearly at a loss for words.

"Good," she snapped and walked towards the door, where Courtney and Jax were watching. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked Courtney.

Looking a bit stunned, Courtney said, "Down the hall and to your right."

"Thank you," Sam said as politely as possible, and quickly ran off.

* * *

"Well, I like her," Tracy said once Sam had left. "For a girl with horrible taste in men, she does seem to have a talent for ripping a strip off your back. I think she'll fit right in."

"Shut up, Tracy," Jason said shortly

"Hey, hey," Ned protested. "Don't tell my mother to shut up."

"Uh, Ned," Justus interjected, "you don't even like Tracy. Hell, you tell her to shut up all the time."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean _he_ can tell her to shut up," Ned explained, glaring at Jason. Jason glared right back.

"Why, thanks," Tracy said. "I think."

Jason shook his head, irritated beyod belief. "I'm going after her," he muttered. Justus grabbed his arm.

"Didn't you just hear what she said?" he asked. "Jason, leave her alone so that she can--"

"What, take off for Costa Rica again?" Jason asked. "No way am I letting that happen."

"Costa Rica?" Edward echoed. "She left for Costa Rica?"

Jason tightened his jaw. There was absolutely no way he was filling them in on any of this. He didn't owe them an explanation, he didn't owe them anything.

Emily explained. "Sam--left for Costa Rica once Jason found out the baby was his."

"I can't say I blame her," Jax commented.

Jason bristled. "That's it, I'm gone." He strode out of the room, not looking at any of them.

* * *

Of course, Jason came after her. He always did. He even came into the ladies' bathroom and knocked on the stall. "Sam? You all right?"

Sam wiped her mouth. After a very long pause, she finally said, her voice hoarse, "I told you not to follow me."

"Did you really think I wasn't going to?"

Sam lurched up to her feet, and opened the stall. Without looking at Jason, she walked to the sink and rinsed out her mouth. When she was finished, she stared at herself in the mirror. "I feel like hell."

"Come on," Jason said. "Let's just go home."

She turned to him, leaning against the sink. "Jason, this situation isn't going to work at all unless we communicate. This whole fiasco could have been avoided if you'd just _talked_ to me or your family."

Jason looked down. "I know." He met her eyes. "What happened tonight was my fault."

"Yeah, no kidding," she muttered. "And what is Carly's problem anyway? If it was _Courtney_, I would understand. I wouldn't like it, but I'd understand it. But I haven't done a thing to Carly--"

"She's compensating," Jason said quietly.

"What?"

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. has been really understanding about all this. I mean, she's hurt, but she's been nothing but civil about it all. And--Carly doesn't get that, because it's the exact opposite of what she would do. When Carly gets hurt, she lashes out, and she doesn't get why Courtney isn't doing the same thing."

"Maybe it's because Courtney actually has class, unlike a certain someone I could mention," Sam muttered, kicking at the floor with her foot.

Jason ignored the comment and continued. "So...all this...maybe it's her way of sticking up for Courtney."

Sam considered it. "That actually makes some sense...in a really twisted sort of way."

* * *

"Listen, Corinthos, Courtney pulled me into this because she needed my help--"

"Oh, yeah, and this has nothing to do with me," Sonny said disbelievingly. "Like I believe that."

Jax looked throughly irritated. "Look, whatever my problems are with you, Courtney doesn't have anything to do with any of it."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Guess those two don't get along," she murmered.

"Yeah. I--I should probably break it up--"

Sam nodded. "Okay, um, I'll just call a taxi, and you get home whenever you can, okay?"

Jason looked at her warily. "This isn't another attempt to run away, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Jason. I'm in no shape to run off. I'm tired, cranky, and I just puked my guts up."

"Good point," Jason conceded. "All right, if you're sure--"

Sam waved her hand. "Go."

And he went. Wearily, Sam pulled out her cell phone. "Come on, come on, where's the number for the taxis..." she murmered.

"Hey, are you all right?" Lucky asked as he stepped up to her.

Sam smiled at him, closing her phone and grateful she'd downed three breathmints. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just about to call a taxi for a ride home."

"Where's Jason?" he asked. "I thought he was coming after you..."

"He did," Sam said. "Don't worry, I didn't kill him."

Lucky grinned. "Good, because I'd hate to have to arrest you." He paused. "Hey, you know what? Why don't you let me give you a ride home? I was planning to go back to my apartment anyway."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He grinned. "Yeah, I don't think anything else can top you standing on that chair, telling everyone off."

Sam groaned. "God, I'm so embarrassed..."

"Are you kidding?" Lucky asked. "That was the highlight of the evening!"

"You really don't mind?"

"Hey, I'm an officer," Lucky said. "It's my duty to protect and serve. Besides, I was bored out of my mind."

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Lucky asked.

Sam leaned her head back against the seat. "About how I've just stumbled into this town and I have no idea what I'm doing," she said wearily. "It's like every time I finally find my footing, something happens to knock me right back on my ass again."

"I know the feeling," Lucky murmered. His mom and dad diasappearing...Skye locked up in prison for a crime he knew she didn't committ...and there was nothing to be done.

He glanced at her and realized again, not for the first time, how pretty she was. And how her demeanor had changed from the dynamo that had told off Jason Morgan, into this scared and confused girl.

"What was I thinking?" she whispered. "I move in with a guy I barely know, just because he knocked me up, and I'm actually naïve enough to believe he's going to make everything okay?"

"Hey, come on, now," Lucky said reassuringly. "You don't know that everything won't work out."

Sam stared at him. "I'm carrying the child of a brain-damaged mob enforcer, his entire family, along with the town, probably thinks I'm a slut, my next-door neighbor is absolutely determined to make my life a living hell, and the only person I can really trust right now is a sleazy bartender who's always looking out for a quick buck. How _exactly_ is everything supposed to work out?"

Lucky knew he had to say something. "Well, Carly could always fall off a cliff," he offered.

She let out a choked laugh. "With my luck, I'd end up getting blamed for it."

"Seriously, though," he continued, "you're just trying to figure out the best way to take care of your child. I respect that."

Sam looked at him, her eyes sorrowful. "Lucky, do you want to know the real reason why I agreed to come live with Jason?"

Lucky did want to know, with a sudden curiosity that surprised him. He wanted to know what she had seen in Jason Morgan to make her trust him. But something held him back from responding.

It didn't matter, because she continued anyway. "I couldn't go through with the abortion. And--and I was too weak and selfish to think about giving this child up for adoption. And then Jason showed up, and gave me an easy way out. And I took it."

Lucky shook his head. "There's nothing selfish about wanting your child."

"There is when it's not in your child's best interests," Sam countered. "And I--God, Lucky, I'm not going to be a fit mother, I don't know anything about kids, and Jason...Christ, do you realize how many issues that guy has?"

"All right, that's it," Lucky muttered, deciding to run off the road, driving into the parking lot of a video rental store. The neon lights from the sign shone into their car, dying their skin pink and blue.

"Wait--what are you doing?" Sam asked.

He ignored her and turned off the engine, shifting in his seat so he could face her. "Sam, listen to me. Things aren't as bad as you think."

She folded her arms. "Clearly, you are one of those "glass half-full" types, and normally I can't stand people like that--but I would love to see anyone even try to put a positive spin on this. Go right ahead."

"Gee, thanks," Lucky said dryly. "First off, let's make something clear. I don't like Jason Morgan. I don't understand him, I don't understand why he makes the choices he does, and my sworn duty as a cop is to take criminals like him down. But with all that...even I have to admit that he's good with kids. And--I don't know if he can be a good father, given what he does. But I do believe that he's going to try."

Her eyes were wide, but her voice was steady as she said, "Go on."

Lucky did. "And as for the Quartermaines...they're one of the most dysfunctional families in town, no question about it. But after years of being Emily's friend and being inside that mansion, I do know that underneath all the backstabbing and the yelling and the politics...they love each other. And they are going to love your child." Lucky leaned back. "How's that for a positive spin?"

After a moment, she smiled slightly. "It's not bad."

"Feel any better?"

Her smile grew. "I'll feel better once I get out of these shoes," she said, groaning. "Ugh."

Lucky laughed and turned the engine back on.

* * *

"You all right?" Sonny asked.

Jason sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He rubbed his face wearily. "Remind me never to come to another one of these things again. What a night."

Sonny smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I heard about the ruckus with the Quartermaines. You all right?"

"Ask me later, when my ears aren't ringing," Jason said dryly.

"That bad?" Sonny asked.

"Yeah, that bad," Jason groaned.

Sonny shook his head. "Damn, I didn't think your family was going to take the news that badly..."

"Oh, no, not them," Jason said. "I mean, they were terrible too, but Sam was the worst. She was pretty mad at me. Can't say I didn't deserve it, I should have prepared her more, but..." he broke off, shaking his head.

"Hey, where is she, anyway?" Sonny asked.

"She went home," Jason said wearily. "Which is what I'm about to do."

* * *

"So, um, thanks for the ride," Sam said. "And for listening to me whine."

"You weren't whining," Lucky said. "If I was in your position, I'd be having a complete meltdown." He smiled at her. "You're going to be fine."

She grinned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Sam turned to get out of the car, but Lucky couldn't leave it like this.

"Hey, do you want to get coffee sometime?" he asked, feeling like a complete dork but unable to stop. "With me?"

Sam stopped and looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, nervous for the first time this evening. "I mean, I realize I'm a cop...and that it might cause a few problems, but...I liked being with you tonight."

Sam smiled at him. "Yeah, okay. Although I can't really drink anything with caffiene...hanging out with you sounds fun."

His eyes grew wide. "Seriously?"

She laughed. "Yeah, absolutely. Lucky...I choose my friends. Not Jason, not Sonny."

"Okay, then," Lucky said, grinning at her.

"Goodnight," she said, stepping out of the car.

" 'Night," he responded.

Sam smiled at him as she shut the door. He waited until she was inside the building, then started his car and went home.

* * *

"Jason, wait."

Jason stopped in his tracks, and turned around to face Alan. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice cool.

It was obvious that Alan was upset. "We're not finished with our discussion."

"Actually, I think we are," Jason said. "I have nothing more to say."

"Acting like you're mute won't solve this," Alan told him, folding his arms.

Jason wanted to yell. He needed to get back to Sam, so he could fix this...the last thing he needed was to hear how much of a disappointment he was to the Quartermaines. God, hadn't they figured it out by now? He would never be what they wanted him to be. "Look, this--Sam and the baby--they have nothing to do with the Quartermaines, all right? So just leave it alone."

Alan stiffened, and his arms fell to his sides. In a hoarse voice, he said, "You know, every time I think there's no way you can hurt this family any more than you already have...you always find a way to surprise me." He turned around and walked away.

_Goddammit._

* * *

When Jason finally got home, Sam was waiting for him on the couch. She'd changed out of her eveningwear into a overlarge gray t-shirt and a pair of sweats. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the top of her head. She looked tired, but calmer. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," Jason said, closing the door behind him. "Listen...for what it's worth, I really am sorry about what happened tonight. That wasn't supposed to happen."

She nodded. "Yeah, I kind of figured. Are all your encounters with your family like that?"

Jason thought. "Yeah, pretty much. You, uh, you stopped them before they really got going. They didn't even get to bring up Sonny or the accident or my "lost potential"."

"You were going to be a doctor," Sam said softly.

"Yeah, I was," Jason said, sitting down. "I don't, you know, remember making the decision...but, uh, I still remember the training."

"Really?" Sam asked. "That must come in what you do."

"Sometimes," Jason agreed. "There was this one time...a friend of mine, Emily's fiance in fact--"

"Nikolas Cassadine?"

Jason gave her an odd look. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky mentioned him," she explained breezily.

Thrown by the fact that she was talking with Lucky Spencer, Jason decided not to pursue it. "Well, he wasn't Emily's fiance at the time...but uh, he got shot in front of a club, and I was there. He was shot in the throat, and there was no time...so...I performed a trachetomy, right there."

"You're kidding," Sam gasped. "That's...like, when you cut the guy's throat open so air can get in, right?"

"Yup," Jason said. "Did it with a switchblade...good thing was, I saved his life, bad news, he couldn't talk for months. Man, was his uncle pissed." Jason grinned for a moment, remembering the look on Stefan Cassadine's face. Then he grew serious. "Anyway, my family can't deal with what I do, and I'm not willing to live by their rules."

"So, that's it then?" she asked. "You just...cut them out of your lives, pretend like they don't exist?"

"Better than the alternative," Jason said wearily. "Trying to mold myself into what they want, and failing anyway." He leaned back against the couch.

Sam looked down at her feet. "See, I couldn't do that. When my dad was alive, no matter what, I couldn't walk away. Even though...he had no use for me other than help with his latest con...he was my father, and I loved him."

"What about your mom?" Jason asked gently.

She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "Well, you already know about her, don't you?"

"I know the basics," he admitted.

Sam swallowed and met his eyes. "Let's see. She took off when I was a baby, and when I found her, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. She had made this perfect new life...and having her trashy, worthless daughter around messed that up."

"I'm sorry," Jason said quietly. They were quiet for a moment, brooding over their messed-up families. Jason broke the silence. "Hey, uh, what are you doing next week?"

"Nothing," Sam responded. "Why?"

"Because we're getting married."

* * *

Sam's head was this close to exploding. Really, how much upheaval could one person be expected to _take_ in such a short amount of time? During the past three months, she'd gotten knocked up, had a miscarriage scare, ran off to South America, fell down a flight of stairs and had another miscarraige scare, agreed to move in with a mob enforcer, yelled at said mob enforcer in front of mob enforcer's entire family, which also happened to be one of the richest families in town. Oh, yeah, and she'd lost out on millions of dollars' worth of gold coins.

And as if all that wasn't enough, now she was getting a proposal of marriage. Unbelievable.

"Sam?" Jason prompted. "You know, an answer would be kind of nice."

Sam stared at Jason. "The answer," she said firmly, "is no. _Hell_ no."


	8. eight: a job interview and a warning

_Author's note: Another long-as-hell chapter. And just for the record, I wasn't around when Jason got into the accident and lost his memory, or for the years afterward. I started watching around the Sonny-Carly-Sam-Lorenzo triangle/mess, so if I've made any mistakes, that's why. And if you could show me any vid clips from around that time, I'd really appreciate it._

* * *

__

__

Sam was pacing. Pacing so fast, in fact, that Jason felt like he was at a tennis match. "Sam, you need to stop pacing, I'm getting dizzy," he said at last.

She stopped pacing, and glared at him. "Don't tell me not to pace. I'll pace if I want to. You've completely upended my life, I think I deserve the right to pace!"

"Sam, it's not that big a deal--"

"Hah!"

"It isn't," he insisted. "We get up there, you know, it doesn't have to be a big deal. We can do it in front of a justice of the peace, down at City Hall--"

"There will be no it!" Sam insisted. "Because we are _not_ getting married!"

Jason stared at her. "What's the big deal? You're carrying my child, you've already moved in, so the next logical step is--"

"Do not say the word 'marriage'," Sam snapped. "There are plenty of unwed mothers, and you know what? I'm going to be one of them, no matter what you say."

"Sam--"

"I'm going to bed," she declared. "And in the morning, you will have come to your senses and realized what a horrible idea this is." She went up the stairs, and Jason followed her.

"Sam, why are you so against this?" he demanded, trotting up the stairs after her.

Once she'd reached the top of the stairs, Sam turned around to face him. "Jason, I like you. Aside from the mob thing, you seem like a pretty good guy, and we might even work out. You know, in a weird, opposites attract kind of way."

"Then what's the problem?"

Sam threw up her hands. "Where do I _start_? Maybe with the fact that I don't love you, or--or that you're still in love with your ex-wife? Or, how about the fact that we still don't know each other all that well? Jason, a wary trust and--and a pregnancy doesn't equal a good marriage!"

"Sam, we want to give this child a stable home life, right?" Jason asked.

"Yes, but—"

"And that means that all three of us have the same last name," Jason said, glad he was finally able to finish a sentence. Around her, it was quickly becoming a rare occurrence.

"Fine, then. Change your last name to McCall and we'll be just fine," Sam said sarcastically. "God! What is with this chauvinistic tradition that the baby has to have the last name of the father? And even if he or she _does_ have your last name, that doesn't mean _I_ have to!'

"Sam—"

She shook her head violently. "No! Jason, absolutely not!"

Jason held up his hands, exhausted. "Okay. Okay."

Sam stared at him warily. "No more marriage talk?"

He shrugged. "If it upsets you that much, then no."

"Oh." Sam shuffled her feet. "Um, Jason, it's nothing personal, it's just--I have issues with marriage."

Jason was a little intrigued, and asked, "Yeah, like what?"

She shrugged. "Well...you know, every girl fantasies about their 'dream wedding'. My dad used to, uh, mock me, though. Said, "Sammie, no man's ever gonna trust you enough to marry you, so get those dreams of white dresses out of your head.' "

"He was an asshole," Jason said quietly, but with conviction.

"Yeah, he was. But he was also right." Sam met Jason's gaze squarely. "But I still dream about it sometimes, you know? I dream about wearing the most beautiful wedding gown in the world, and getting married in a great church to the man I love." She paused. "Jason, I've had to give up a lot of my ideals...but that won't be one of them. If I can't get married to a man that I'm in love with, then I won't get married."

Jason sighed. "Okay then. We won't get married." He walked away to his own bedroom. "Night, Sam."

"Are you mad?" she asked after him.

He turned around. "No," he reassured her. In reality, what he felt was...relieved. Despite wanting to do the right thing...Jason was nowhere near ready to walk down the aisle again.

* * *

When Lucky walked into Kelly's a few days after the benefit, he was surprised and pleased to see Sam McCall perusing a newspaper at the table. "Hey," he said as he waked up to her. "This seat taken?"

She looked up and gave him a big smile. "Hey. No, it's not taken. Take a seat."

He sat down, with the vague feeling of doing something underhanded. Lucky had no clue why...after all, he was just sitting down at a table with a person he wanted to befriend.

A person who was pregnant with the child of Jason Morgan.

Lucky shook these thoughts off. It was fine. After all, he was best friends with Emily, who was Jason's sister. There wasn't going to be a problem. "So, what are you doing?" he asked.

She held up the paper. "Looking through the classifieds. I need a job."

Lucky raised his eyebrows. "Why do you want a job?'

Sam shrugged. 'I'm bored. Jason's gone most of the day on..._business_," she said, making air quotes around the last word, causing Lucky to snort in amusement. "—and I have no intention of lying around the apartment for the rest of the pregnancy, never mind the rest of my life. Or however long I stay with Jason."

Lucky smiled. "I'll let you know if I hear anything...oh, wait. There was an opening at L&B Records for a receptionist. Mostly filing and answering the phone..."

"Really?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Yeah," he said. "My friend Elizabeth was interested...but the pay and benefits weren't so great, so she opted for the hospital instead."

"That's not a problem," Sam said. She ruffled through the paper. "Here it is—wonder how I missed it. Got a pen?"

Lucky reached into his inside pocket and handed her a ballpoint. She circled the ad, then put the paper aside. "So, how are things with you?"

Lucky sighed. "Not so great."

"Why, what's wrong?"

He groaned. "There was a major case—we cut a few corners we shouldn't have, and it ended up nearly costing us the conviction."

Sam winced. "Ouch. You said almost—"

"Yeah, the DA managed to fix things, and he's probably going to win the case. Didn't stop him from chewing us out though," Lucky added, wincing as he remembered the way Ric Lansing had raged at them. The worst part, they hadn't been able to defend themselves. They'd screwed up, plain and simple.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Lucky dragged himself out of his reverie. 'Sure."

Sam fiddled with her nails. "Did—did you hear anything about Jason's family? I mean, how they reacted to me?"

Lucky shook his head. "No, I didn't. I can ask Emily for you—"

"No, that's okay," Sam said. "I was just wondering."

"Well, if you go to the interview for L&B, you'll probably find out yourself. The owner, Ned Ashton, is Jason's cousin."

"Oh God."

"No, don't worry about it," he reassured her. "He's a cool guy."

"You sure?" Sam asked, clearly worried.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Lucky insisted.

Sam bit her lip. "I am pretty bored, you know, sitting around the penthouse all day. It's a beautiful apartment, don't get me wrong, and he even has TiVo, but lying around the house all day just isn't my style. I need something to do."

"So go," Lucky told her. "It's just an interview." Then he grinned mischeviously. "Besides, if Ned pisses you off, you can just stand up on top of your chair and chew him out."

Sam laughed at that. "Okay, that was a one-time thing--"

"Really? Damn," Lucky said, pretending to be disappointed. "I was hoping I could sic you on my bosses, get them to lighten my caseload..."

"Hey, hey! It was hormones, all right? Temporary insanity!"

"I don't know why you're so embarrassed about the whole thing," Lucky said. "If I had been the one to actually tell Jason Morgan off, you can bet I'd be bragging about it to everyone I know."

"Jason would break your kneecaps if you did," Sam pointed out.

Lucky wondered if she realized that that might actually happen. But he smiled nonetheless. "Then I'd just brag from a wheelchair then."

She smiled again. "You know what? I'm going to interview for that job. Yeah, why not?"

"Ahem," a male voice said as two hands landed on Sam's shoulders. Sam jumped, then twisted around to see who it was.

Sonny grinned down at her. "Hello, Sam."

"Sonny," Sam responded, casually shifting so that Sonny would drop his hands. Lucky glared at him, and when he was this close to actually saying something, Sonny finally removed his hands. Lucky forced himself to relax. Only a little. "What are you doing here?" Sam asked, giving Lucky a warning look.

"Just here to talk to Mike," he replied. "What about you?"

"Having lunch," Sam said.

Sonny looked over at Lucky for the first time. "You can leave now."

Lucky bristled at the casual dismissal. Before he could respond, however, Sam said, "No, he can't, because he hasn't ordered his lunch yet."

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "Is there a reason why he has to order it _here_?"

"My aunt owns the place," Lucky interjected, his voice cool. "I have lunch here all the time." He locked his gaze with the older man's, daring Sonny to make a big deal out of this.

"You don't eat lunch with her all the time," Sonny pointed out.

"Hello? I'm right here," Sam interrupted. Both of them looked at her. "Not that it is any of your business, Sonny, but I've having lunch with Jason because I want him to."

"He's a cop," Sonny said flatly, as if he was saying "he's a murderer" or "he's a crime lord". Oh, wait. That was Sonny, not him. If that was what Lucky did, Sonny would be buying him lunch.

"So what?" Sam asked, throwing her hands up.

Lucky grinned at him. "My profession isn't a problem for any law-abiding citizen. And as you and your high-priced lawyers like to scream to anyone who'll listen, you are nothing if not a law-abiding citizen. Isn't that right, Sonny?" Yeah, it had to be admitted that Lucky was deliberately trying to provoke him.

And from the glare Sonny was giving him in response, Lucky had succeeded. "Yeah, that's exactly right."

"Then there isn't a problem if I have lunch with Sam then, is there?"

Sonny's glare intensified as both Sam and Lucky looked at him innocently. Finally, since there was nothing he could really do, he walked out of the diner without saying another word.

Sam watched him go, then turned to Lucky, looking very pleased. "I'm impressed."

He shrugged. "Sonny Corinthos has a huge ego in need of deflation. I'm glad to be able to do the deflating on occasion." But Sonny's brief visit had reminded Lucky of the reality of the situation."Sam--listen, that's probably going to happen a lot."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she replied promptly.

Lucky didn't want to spell it out for her, but he didn't have any other options. She had to understand this. "Sam, I'm a _cop_. Jason and Sonny? They don't_ like _cops. And if we continue to do this--"

"Do what?" Sam's voice was defensive. "Have _lunch_?"

"If we keep hanging out together," Lucky continued in a steady voice, "--then they probably aren't going to approve. In fact, they _definitely_ won't approve."

"Who cares if they approve?" Sam demanded, clearly irritated by this point. Not so much at Lucky, but at the maddening situation. "I certainly don't care, do you?"

"Sam, if I wanted their approval, I sure as hell wouldn't be a cop." He swallowed. "But that doesn't mean they'll aprrove of us being friends. In fact, they'll probably insist that I'm trying to get close to you as a way to get information on them."

"Are you?" Sam asked bluntly.

Lucky refused to let himself be hurt by the question. She had a right to ask. "No, I'm not."

"I believe you," she said quietly, then smiled. "You'd be wasting your time anyway. Jason doesn't tell me anything about what he does."

"And I believe you," Lucky said. "But all of that isn't going to make a difference to either Sonny or Jason."

Sam folded her hands on the table and looked at him intently. "I don't live my life by Jason's rules. I make my own friends, and I trust my instincts. And right now, my instincts say that you're all right."

"Same here," Lucky said with a smile of relief. "Now, I'm starving, so I'm going to order some food. What are you going to have?"

* * *

Ned walked into Lois's office to find her casually chatting with--whoa. Sam McCall. The girl from the benefit. "What's going on here?"

Sam turned around and her eyes widened. "Hello, Mr. Ashton," she responded, sounding a little bit nervous.

Lois beamed at him. "Sam's here interviewing for the receptionist job."

Under normal circumstances, Ned would be thrilled. The ad had been in the newspaper for weeks, but since L&B Records couldn't afford to pay well, no one had taken the job.

But then, these weren't normal circumstances. Sam was pregnant with Jason's child. Alan had managed to confirm that by finding the paternity test done at General Hospital.

And according to the private investigators Edward had hired, she was also a con artist by profession.

None of the Quartermaines were sure of what to do. This could be a scam, or worse, it could turn into another Carly-Michael situation. And now she wanted a job here?

It could be a scam.

Or an opportunity for Alan and Monica to get to know at least one of their grandkids.

"Why are you here, really?" Ned asked.

"I'm here to interview for the job," Sam said calmly.

"Sure you are," he said skeptically. "If you're just here to help Jason and Sonny screw my family over again--"

"Ned, she's willing to take the job. Don't push it!" Lois ordered him.

Ned ignored her. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I need a job," Sam responded, her voice shaking just the tiniest bit.

He raised an eyebrow. "I have a pretty good idea of how much Jason makes. Trust me, you don't need a job."

"Fine then," she said, rolling her eyes. "I _want_ a job. I need something to do other than watching the Lifetime Channel all day and keeping track of my folic intake. This seemed like a good place to start."

There was a very long pause. She seemed sincere..."You know the pay sucks, right?" he asked finally.

"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "But like you said, I don't need the money."

He sighed. It was worth a shot. "Can you start on Monday?"

Sam grinned, clearly relieved. "Yeah. Totally." She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry, but I have to go--I have a checkup at the hospital." She stood up and looked at him. "And thanks for the job."

"No problem," Ned said. "See you on Monday."

Once Sam had left, Lois stood up, folding her arms. "Okay, what was that all about?"

Ned sighed. "Sam's pregnant with Jason's child. And she also happens to be a con artist."

His ex-wife's mouth fell open. "Oh. That would explain the third degree you gave her." She frowned. "But then--if you don't trust her, then why offer her the job?"

"Hey, did you see those lyrics for BrookLynn's new song?" he asked, changing the subject.

Lois didn't let it go. "I know you, Ned, and you didn't do this for some noble reason or out of empathy. You have an angle, and as your business partner, I demand to be let in on it."

"We need a receptionist," Ned said innocently. "One who doesn't mind the crappy pay and little benefits..."

"Ned Ashton--"

"LIke it or not, Lois, those are my reasons for offering Sam the job," Ned insisted, then smiled wickedly. "And if it happens to piss Jason off? Well, I consider that to be a bonus."

Lois smiled for a moment, then tilted her head. "I don't get it. I thought you didn't have a problem with Jason."

"I don't, for the most part." Ned swallowed. "But--affter my grandmother died...we really thought...he might come back. Not--not completely, but that he'd at least make an effort. Instead, he went back to working for Sonny as--as if nothing had happened. And then, he doesn't even tell us that he's going to be a father?" He shook his head. "I see it as a win-win situation. We can watch this girl, figure her out, and if things go well..."

"You get another addition to the family," Lois finished. "Sneaky, Ned. Very sneaky."

"A well-intentioned sneaky, though," Ned added. "Now, seriously. Where are the new lyrics?"

* * *

"You did what?" Jason asked, furrowing his forehead.

Sam remained calm as she grabbed her clothes. The thin hospital gown didn't protect her from the draft in the room, and she couldn't wait to get back into her street clothes. "I got a job. At L&B Records."

Jason blinked. "What for?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because I want to do more than sit around the apartment all day, Jason."

He gave her a wary look. "Okay, Sam, this isn't an attempt to make enough money so you can run off again, is it?"

Sam looked at him. "You're never going to really get over that, are you?" she asked.

"Honestly? No."

Sam rolled her eyes again. "Fine, Jason. I'm trying to earn enough money so that Coleman and I can run off with your child to Chile and teach him or her to become a sheep-herder." When he didn't say anything, Sam added impatiently, "That was a joke, Jason."

"I know." He shrugged. "If you really want to do this--"

"I do," Sam said quickly.

"Then fine," Jason looked down at his feet. "Why are you eating lunch with Lucky Spencer?"

Sam threw up her hands. "Oh, here we go--"

"He's a _cop_--"

"If I hear that one more time, Jason, I swear--" Sam was really getting angry by this point. "We just went through this with Coleman, remember? You acted like a Neanderthal, and I told you that if you ever tried anything like that again, that I would walk. So don't try it."

He held out his hands. "I'm just telling you to be careful. That's all."

Sam leaned back against the pillows, saying quietly, "I'm not an idiot, you know. Besides, it's not like I know anything to tell."

Jason nodded. "True."

Just then, Dr. Meadows came in. "I'm afraid there's a problem," she said somberly.

Sam's heart turned to ice. "What? What's wrong?"

Dr. Meadows held out her hands. "Nothing that can't be fixed...Sam, you have what's known as an incompetant cervix. It's too weak to stay closed for the length of your pregnancy."

"Okay, that--that doesn't sound good," Jason said quietly, his eyes wide and almost frantic.

"Untreated, it can lead to a preterm birth and the possible loss of the child--" the doctor continued.

"Then fix it," Jason said quickly.

"Surgery is what's usually done here. After the surgery, everything will be as good as new, and you can carry to term, no problems. It's a minor procedure, and everything should go well."

Sam allowed herself to breathe again. "So--a few sutures, and I'm fine."

"Yup. When would you like to--"

"Now," Sam bursted out. "Now works for me."

Jason agreed. "Yeah, absolutely."

Dr. Meadows smiled at them. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Alan had almost walked in the door twice. The first time, he'd been two steps away from the door before turning back. The second time, his hand had actually made it to the doorknob. But he'd turned back then too.

Not that he had any reason to be afraid to go into that room. He was the Chief of Staff. She was carrying his grandchild and had just had surgery. He had every right to go in there.

Except for the fact that Jason had made it painfully clear, so many times, that Alan had no rights. No right to be worried, to care. No right to give advice, to concern himself with his son's concerns. No right to be a father to him.

And no right to walk into that hospital room. No right to be a grandfather.

At that thought, it was as if something snapped inside his head. Alan squared his shoulders, walked purposefully to the door, opened the door, ready to drag his son, kicking and screaming, to a place where he was safe, so he could beat it into Jason's stubborn head what was best for him--

--but when he opened the door, he just found Sam there, a magazine in her hands, staring at him with surprise.

"Hello," Alan said awkwardly. "I'm Alan--Jason's father--"

"I know," Sam replied, still looking surprised.

"I heard the surgery went well."

She looked even more surprised at this. "You checked up on me?" No outrage in her voice however, which he took to be a good sign.

With more confidence than he felt, Alan replied, "You're carrying my grandchild and I'm the Chief of Staff. Of course I checked with the surgeon."

Sam smiled at him. "That was really sweet of you. Thanks."

Alan was, to put it mildly, completely floored by her response. No outrage? No accusations of interference or manipulation? He'd been prepared for that, ready to do battle. But what he hadn't been prepared for was--acceptance. For her to be touched by his concern, instead of self-righteously angry about it. "Perfectly natural response," he muttered, casting about for a topic of conversation. "So, how do you like Port Charles?" Alan asked finally.

She paused before answering. "Hmm...not sure yet. I haven't really gotten my bearings yet. Everything's happened so fast."

"I know the feeling. Where's Jason?"

She shrugged. "Getting some coffee. He should be here pretty soon, in case you want to talk to him--"

But somehow, he didn't. Conversations with Jason always tended to follow the same tired, hurtful script, and Alan was suddenly in no mood to poke at old, unhealed wounds. "No, that's all right. I just came in to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," she reassured. "So's the baby."

"Good, that's--good." He wanted to say more, but was at a loss to figure out exactly what. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you again." Across the street, perhaps, or at some fancy event, carefully guarded by Jason and Sonny and those bodyguards. But never up close. That wasn't how it worked.

"Bye," she murmered, as his back was turned. Alan's hand was on the doorknob again, ready to leave, when all of a sudden--

--he knew what he came in here for.

To give her a warning.

Alan turned around and met her eyes. "Sam?"

"Yes, Dr. Quartermaine?"

Alan looked down, trying to find the right wording for what he needed to tell her. "Jason--he spends his life in service of others." Like that midget mobster with that giant ego who'd waltzed into town and taken those Alan loved best. Not just Jason, but Michael too, and even AJ in a way. "And--he thinks he can protect the people he loves. But--a lot of that has to do with luck too, do you understand?"

Sam's face was somber now, tight. "Yeah. I understand."

His mouth was dry, but he continued anyway. "Jason doesn't get along with us. But if anything ever...ever goes wrong, I hope...that you'll consider turning to the Quartermaines. Despite Jason's feelings. Please, just keep that in mind."

As his hand turned the doorknob, Alan heard Sam's voice. "I will," she promised. And then, a very, very quiet--"Thanks."

It was all he could do.

But it wasn't enough.

* * *

Jason gave Sam a wary look as he helped her into the car. She was quiet now. Too quiet. And sure, it could be put down to exhaustion, but Jason, after knowing Sam for only a short time, could already tell that running a marathon on one leg wouldn't shut Sam up.

"You all right?" he asked gruffly as he got into the driver's seat.

"I'm fine," she said, looking down at her hands.

As he started the car, he almost missed her saying, "Your dad stopped by earlier."

Whoa. Where had that come from?

Trust a Quartermaine to throw everything off-kilter. "What did he want?" Jason asked, making sure his voice stayed even.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam shrug her shoulders slightly. "To see how I was doing." She paused, then asked The Question. That's how he saw it in his head, in capital letters. "So, exactly what went wrong with you and your family?"

It was a question Jason had been running up against for eight years. And to be perfectly honest--and Jason was always perfectly honest--he didn't have a clear-cut answer, not really. There were so many factors there--Sonny, his parents, Jason feeling like he was worthless, a stand-in until the real Jason Quartermaine returned. Feeling like nothing, like nobody. Seeing the pain in his family's eyes every time he failed a test that he hadn't even known he was taking. The anger that built up in him over time, the frustration that had only abated once he'd broken away from all of them, from Alan and Monica and Edward and AJ--all of the Quartermaines.

But he didn't know how to put it into words. He didn't know how to make her understand. But Jason had to try. "After the accident--I was nothing to the Quartermaines. I wasn't--a person in my own right, I was nothing but a reminder of this horrible loss that they had suffered. Sonny was the first person I'd met, other than my grandmother and Emily, who accepted me the way I was."

Sam nodded as if she understood, but then she said, "It's--it's been eight years, though. I'm not trying to judge, but--they're still your family, and it's obvious that they care about you. Why can't you forgive them yet?"

Jason's chest was tight. "Look, it's more complicated than that, okay? Can we drop this?"

She didn't push, for which he was grateful. "Okay."

* * *

Jason said it was complicated. But to Sam, it was so ridiculously simple that she was baffled by Jason's behavior. Jason's parents loved him, so he should forgive them. It was clear that Jason's father cared about him. Sam simply couldn't understand rejecting a parent who loved you. That love has been what she had craved all her life, and to see someone else rejecting what she longed for was just--so, so confusing.

Sam didn't understand. But maybe, somewhere down the line, after she'd gotten to know Jason better, she would understand his motivations, his reasons.

Or maybe not.


	9. nine: dinner and a step forward

_Author's note: This is one of the first multi-chaptered stories I've written where I actually have a problem keeping the chapters SHORT enough. And btw, I've planned out the entire story, which means that yes, I do know who Sam's going to end up with, and no, I'm not going to tell you. For the JaSam fans, you've got a lot of things in this chapter, for the Lucky fans, (if there are any at this point) don't worry, he'll be in the next chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

Sam was rapidly coming to a conclusion.

The second trimester of pregnancy _sucked_.

Oh, sure, the morning sickness was fading away. And God, was she thankful for that. But then, her clothes weren't fitting anymore. After the third day of showing up at work in a sweatsuit, Lois, BrookLynn, Georgie, and Sage had insisted on dragging her to all the maternity clothing stores in town to get clothes that would actually fit. (Of course, Jason footed the bill.)

"C'mon, Sam, come on out!" Lois called outside the dressing room.

Sam pushed aside the curtain. "How does it look?" she asked, pulling at the hem of the dress.

"Great!"

"You look fantastic!"

"You need to wear that shade of green more often, Sam. It really brings out the green in your eyes."

"It's great, except--isn't the neckline a little too low?"

"Oh, come on, Georgie. Just because she's pregnant doesn't mean she has to dress like a nun."

Twittering, the four women swarmed around Sam, pulling at the sleeves, fussing with the neckline. "What do you think, Sam?" Lois asked. "Bet Jason'll love you in it."

Sam snorted. "Jason wouldn't notice if I walked into the room wearing a potato sack."

Lois raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Hey, can we go buy some CDs next?" Sage Alcazar asked. "I really want to get that album by Jem."

BrookLynn stared at the other girl. "You like _Jem_?"

Sage rolled her eyes. "You know, I'm not a total ditz. I have good taste in music..."

As the girls argued, Lois turned to Sam. "Trouble in mob paradise?" she asked quietly.

"You could say that," Sam admitted.

* * *

Lois and Sam were drinking smoothies while they waited for the teens to finish their shopping. "You're in your fourth month now, right?" the older woman asked.

Sam nodded as she drank out of her straw. "Yup."

"So, you're past the horrible nausea stage and onto the horny stage."

Sam nearly choked. "Lois!"

"What? It's the truth, ain't it?" She took a sip of her drink, all the while looking at Sam speculatively. "I take it there isn't much activity in the bedroom these days?"

Sam considered lying, but knew Lois wouldn't buy it for a minute. "Try_ no_ activity. My relationship with Jason doesn't work like that. The only thing tying us together is this child."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not--"

"Trust me, it's true." She sighed. "It's just--frustrating. Aside from the hormones, I've been living with Jason for over a month now, and I understand him as little as I did the first night we met. I'm not saying I want him to be in love with me, because that's not what I want. I just...I don't know." She forced a smile. "Thank God for vibrators, right?"

Lois looked like she was about to say something, but right then, BrookLynn, Georgie, and Sage came up to them, and they had to go.

* * *

Jason stared, open-mouthed, at the bodyguards lugging in Sam's shopping bags. "How did you possibly buy all this in a few hours?"

Sam shrugged. "It was pretty easy, actually. Especially when I was surrounded by four shopaholics. And I picked up a few things, you know, for the baby. Unisex colors, don't worry."

"What, like green and yellow?"

"Actually," Sam said, "I heard green is supposed to be the new pink."

Jason just blinked. "What?" Sam opened her mouth to elaborate, and he shook his head, cutting her off. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Come on, we have to go."

Sam stared at him. "What for? Jason, I've spent hours on my feet."

"You have a checkup at the hospital, remember?" Jason reminded her.

"Oh, right. That. Crap."

* * *

"Oh...let's see..." Dr. Meadows murmered.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, worried, craning her neck to get a better look at the ultrasound.

"Nothing's wrong, Sam. Your baby is in the perfect position to determine gender." The doctor looked at them. "Do you want to know?"

Sam looked at Jason. He smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to you."

She beamed. "Okay, I'm dying to know. Tell me."

Dr. Meadows smiled at her. "Congratulations, you two. You're going to have a baby girl." She smiled at them, turned off the machine, and left.

"Let's celebrate," Jason said quietly.

Sam turned to him. "What?"

He shrugged. "Carly owns this place...it's under Kelly's. It's called the Cellar. Let's go there for dinner tonight."

"And what are we celebrating?" Sam asked, liking the idea of going out.

"Well, we're celebrating our healthy daughter, and the fact that you got a job."

Sam nodded. "Works for me."

* * *

"Wow," Sam said as she walked into the restaurant. "Carly owns this place? Nice."

"Yeah, she's pretty proud of it," Jason said as he pulled out Sam's chair and helped her get settled in.

"So, listen, I wanted to ask you...what should the baby's last name be?"

"Morgan," Jason said as if it were obvious.

Sam rolled her eyes. "And I suppose the name McCall isn't even an option, huh?"

Jason leaned back in his seat. "What, we're not even going to wait for the appetizers before we start arguing?"

"Is Morgan even your legal name?" Sam demanded. "Like, did you ever bother to have it changed from Quartermaine?"

From the look on Jason's face, it was clear that he hadn't, in fact, bothered to make it legal. "That's not the point, and don't try to turn this into some feminist thing--"

"Nice, Jason, really nice--"

Jason held up his hands in a 'stop' gesture. "Can we at least to order something first?"

Sam rolled her eyes again. "Fine. You win. We'll order. Then we'll argue."

"That's all I ask," Jason said, smirking at her.

* * *

Dinner was actually going pretty well, to Sam's surprise. Aside from the name debate, which had lasted all the way through the appetizers and halfway through the main course, the conversation was really...nice. Jason hadn't made any comments about Lucky Spencer. He listened to her stories about L&B and never once hinted that she should quit. In fact, Jason seemed happy that she was enjoying herself.

"Are you happy here?" he asked quietly, not looking at her as he speared a piece of his steak with his fork.

Sam was surprised by the question. "What?"

He looked up. "I know that I kind of...dragged you here against your will."

"Jason," she said gently, "I was the one who made the decision to--to trust you and to live with you. We decided to do this for the baby--"

"I know," he interrupted. "I know, but...you don't know anyone here. I mean, we're still getting to know each other, and God knows Carly hasn't made you feel all that welcome--"

"Yeah, no kidding," Sam said with a laugh. She had decided to give Carly a wide berth after the benefit, and apparently the other woman had come to the same conclusion. Which was a good thing, because with the hormones raging through Sam's system, there was no way she was going to be able to handle a confrontation calmly.

"And there was that whole thing with the Quartermaines at the benefit--" Jason continued.

"Now _that_ was interesting," Sam said.

"It may have been interesting for you, but it was a nightmare for me," Jason insisted. "Anyway, I just--want to make sure that you're all right. I don't--I don't want you to be staying here just because you're obligated to."

Sam looked down. "That's kind of why I took the job at L&B's," she admitted. "I wasn't looking for a reason to stay, Jason, because I'm determined to make this work. I just--I was looking for reasons to _want_ to stay, you know? I--I run when things get rough. I'm not proud of it, but that's just what I do. And I can't do that anymore, and I just--need to stop feeling the need to run away."

"You want to run?" Jason asked, his eyes filled with--could that be hurt?

Sam knew she had to be honest, though. "Sometimes, I do. When--when I'm lying alone in my bed and--and thinking about all the ways I could screw up, all the ways that this could go wrong. When--when I think too much about what you do for a living, and all the risks you take every day." Her throat was tight, and Sam had to look down, away from Jason's crystal blue eyes.

"How often do you feel like this?" he asked gently.

She knew the answer would hurt him even more. "Honestly?"

"Always."

"Almost every night."

He leaned back in his chair. "Oh."

Sam hurried to explain. "It's just that--everything's happened so fast, you know? And the idea of being a mom scares the hell out of me, Jason. But--but the feeling goes away eventually. After I think about how great you are with your nephew Michael, or--or I remember the look in your eyes when you heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. You're really going to be good for this baby, Jason. I'm not sure of a lot of things, but that's one thing I'm not worried about at all."

Jason was silent for a very long moment, then laid his hand on top of hers, gently lacing their fingers together. Sam's mouth fell open slightly at the electricity from the moment their hands touched. Whoa. She hadn't realized he could still make her feel like that--

"You're going to be a great mother, Sam," Jason assured her quietly, locking his eyes onto hers. "And that's one thing that I'm sure of."

Sam smiled at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, futilely dabbing at her eyes with her free hand. "Now, uh, what's good for dessert in this place?"

Jason smiled, letting her change the subject. "Well...the tiramisu is really great--" His eyes went to the bar behind Sam, and he stopped mid-sentence.

"Jason? Jason?"

He continued staring.

"Jason?" Sam was starting to get alarmed at this point. The look on Jason's normally unexpressive face was now somewhere between profound shock and unholy amusement.

He tore his eyes away from whatever was happening at the bar and turned to her. "Okay, Sam, you're never going to believe this...you know my cousin Dillon?"

"Yes..."

"Well--he's at the bar, in drag, and I think he's picking up this older guy."

Sam choked. "No. No way."

Jason pointed towards the bar. "Yes way."

Almost afraid to look, Sam turned--and Jason, to Sam's horror, was telling the truth.

Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.

Sam blinked hard, willing the scene to change into something that actually made sense, but when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed.

It was Dillon all right, wearing a long wig, and--and lip gloss, and dear God, he had on a skirt, and he had boobs, and_ how the hell _was this happening? Dillon had a girlfriend for God's sake--oh, who was she kidding? She'd seen enough episodes of _Queer as Folk_ to know that having a girlfriend did not automatically make a guy straight as an arrow. But this just didn't make any _sense_. Sam's gaydar was almost perfect, she would have known--

And just who the hell was that guy with Dillon, anyway? He looked so familiar--Sam squeaked as she realized just where she'd seen that guy before. At L&B's.

Simon. That was his name. Simon Something-Or-Other, a big-shot producer taking a look at BrookLynn. What the hell was he thinking, picking up a teenager? He was forty, at _least_!

"Sam? Say something." Jason's voice cut through Sam's fevered thoughts.

Sam twisted around in her chair. "There has got to be a logical explanation for that," she muttered.

Jason smirked. "I can think of a few, but they all come under the heading 'don't ask, don't tell'."

Sam had to do something. Ned had been kind enough to give her a job, and one of her unspoken duties was to look after the teens if necessary. "Screw the tiramisu, Jason. We have to go and get Dillon."

His eyes widened. "What? No way."

She couldn't believe it. "Jason!" Sam hissed. "He's your _cousin_."

"It's none of my business how Dillon wants to dress or if he wants to pick up a guy twice his age," Jason shot back.

"Jason Morgan, I swear to God--"

He sighed. "Fine. Fine. But for the record, you're doing all the talking."

"Fine," she agreed and stood up. Jason got out of his chair as well, and she marched over to the bar, Jason right on his heels. "Excuse me," she said loudly, "but what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Horrified, Sam saw that Simon's hand was--holy shit--on Dillon's knee.

Dillon twisted in the stool, and he turned paper-white upon seeing her. "Sam?" he quavered in a ridiculously high falsetto. He turned even paler upon seeing Jason. "Oh, shit."

"Excuse me, but who the hell are you?" Simon asked, his voice sounding as posh and British and unruffled as ever.

"Sam McCall," she said, her voice filled with steel as she planted her hands on her hips. "And you didn't answer my question. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?"

Jason stepped up to stand next to her, folding his arms. "You heard her. Answer."

Simon didn't look at all perturbed. Taking a sip of his drink, he said calmly, "I'm having a drink with my friend Astrid here."

Sam turned to Dillon, her eyes wide. "_Astrid_?" she mouthed. Dillon put his face in his hands. "Okay," Sam said, trying to keep her head from spinning. "Well, now you're _not_ having a drink with--Astrid. Come on, let's go," she said, grabbing Dillon by the arm and dragging him off the stool. Dillon stumbled, clearly not used to walking on high heels.

"I had a lovely time," he said quickly, still talking in the falsetto. Sam dragged him off to a secluded corner of the restaurant, Jason following them, looking highly amused.

"Okay," she said, trying to remain calm. "Dillon, I'm not going to judge or anything like that, but what the hell is going on?"

Dillon looked frantic. "It's not what it looks like, I swear."

Jason made a soft snorting noise, and Sam glared at him. "Jason, not now."

He held up his hands. "I didn't say anything. Live and let live is my motto. I'm just here as an observer."

Dillon looked up at the ceiling. "Of all the relatives I could have run into...I had to run into the macho mob enforcer?" He turned to them. "Okay, this isn't a sexual identity crisis, I swear. It's--well, it's homework."

Sam and Jason gaped at him. "It's what?" Sam asked once she'd found her voice.

"Listen, have you ever read the book _Black Like Me_?"

Sam wanted to scream. "What does a novel have to do with you dressing up in drag?"

"Hear me out, please! The guy in the book, he painted himself up to look like he was black and went down to the South, you know, back in the days of segregation. Well, we're reading this in English, and my grade in that class sucks so bad, Sam, you have no idea--"

"And--and this is, what, extra credit?"

Dillon looked miserable. "Yeah."

Jason blinked and said, "Okay, your teacher is just--"

"Sadistic?" Dillon finished. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't even going to do it, but then these jerks, Lucas and Diego--they were such asses--started talking trash, like how I didn't have the guts to do it--"

"Well, it does take a real man to wear high heels," Sam muttered, then shook her head. "All right, all right. Dillon, I'm glad that you're—trying to improve your grades, but—"

"Picking up forty-year-old men is not the way to do it," Jason finished for her. "Personally, I don't care if you like guys, girls, or both, because that's none of my business. I don't even care that you're in drag. But that guy is way too old for you."

"I know he is!" Dillon wailed. "I—okay, I was at L&B's, wearing _this_," he gestured at his outfit, "and he just came up to me and started talking, and I was like, okay, then he asked me out!"

"And you said yes because..." Sam prodded.

Dillon looked miserable. "He—he kind of hinted that if I didn't say yes, he wasn't going to sign on BrookLynn, and L&B's needs the business, Sam, you know that."

Sam blinked. "I'm going to kill this guy."

"Sam—"

Jason looked amused. "Don't try to stop her, Dillon. Remember, hormones."

"But—"

"But nothing!" she snapped. "Does Ned know about this? Does Lois? Because let me tell you, Dillon, I know they want L&B's to succeed, but not like this!"

Dillon opened his mouth to respond, but then noticed Jason staring at him speculatively. "Dude, what?"

"I'm just trying to figure out if there's any way this producer guy really believes that you're a girl," Jason responded, then shook his head. "This is making my head hurt."

Sam gave Dillon the once-over. "No way in hell he doesn't know you're a guy," she decided. "Sorry, Dillon, but there's just no way you're fooling anyone. You're too beefy."

"Excuse me?" a very posh, very British male voice asked. Sam turned, gritting her teeth. Simon smirked at them. "Can I have my date back?"

Dillon hissed in Jason's ear, "Dude, please, I'm begging you, get me out of this!"

Jason turned to Sam. "I told you my family was crazy."

* * *

"Well, that was--unusual," Sam said as they walked towards the car. "Wow."

Jason shook his head. "Dillon in drag was an image I never needed in my head," he said. "Jesus Christ..."

Sam giggled. "The poor guy. Remind me not to torture him about this too much. Oh, and we've got to pick up some stuff for the nursery, now that we know the sex of the baby."

"Yeah."

Sam gave him a sideways glance. "You're--not disappointed, are you? I mean, we never discussed wheather you wanted a boy or a girl--"

"No, I like the idea of a little girl," he reassured her. "I have to warn you though, I don't know a lot about raising them."

Sam smiled at him. "Jason, I've seen you with Michael. You're great with him. And it's obvious that you love him. I think that's all you really need to know." Jason's relationship with Michael Corinthos was one of the things that had told Sam that she'd made the right choice to stay with him. "Hey, can we pick up—"

"We've already got cotton candy ice cream, we've got chocolate, and barbeque chips, and that weird mango juice you like so much. I had Max go and restock the fridge," Jason rattled off quickly.

Sam stared at him. "How did you know what I was going to ask?"

Jason pulled out his keys and turned off the car alarm. Then he opened up the passenger door for him. Sam grinned, because even if he was an enforcer for the mob, he had good manners. "Easy. I've been keeping track of your cravings. Have a list and everything of the stuff you ask for the most."

She blinked, and he smirked. "Oh," she said.

* * *

Sam was tossing and turning in her bed. Even though the apartment was air-conditioned, Sam felt like she was burning up. She futilely searched for a cool spot on her pillow, and finally gave up.

She tried counting sheep. She tried simply closing her eyes. But the last one wasn't such a good idea, because these..._thoughts_...would keep popping into her head.

Thoughts about Jason's rock-hard abs. Or his fingers lacing with her at dinner and the immediate burst of electricity that went through her entire body. How, during that one night they'd been together, she had kissed and licked and bit what seemed like every inch of his tanned skin.

And if she didn't think about Jason, she would just end up thinking dirty thoughts about someone else. Like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Carribean. Brad Pitt in...well, Brad Pitt in any movie. Taye Diggs. That one cute busboy at Kelly's. Hell, even Lucky Spencer.

Lucky Spencer with that cleft in his chin and that impossibly handsome face...the guy was built too, she could tell that under those shirts was...

Oh, Jesus. Fantasizing about Jason was bad enough, but at least he'd knocked her up. In a weird way, she had a sort of right to fantasize, especially since they'd already slept together? But Lucky was just her friend. Her completely platonic friend with a gorgeous face and body, and hair that she'd just love to sink her fingers into...

"Ugh," she groaned.

Sam stayed up for a long time, but she did fall to sleep, eventually. But when she did, her sleep was haunted by vague, definitely erotic dreams that starred Jason, then Lucky, then Jason again, with the occasional appearance by Johnny Depp.

* * *

It was a Saturday, and Sam had the day off from L&B's. Which, quite frankly, was a good thing, as Sam wasn't in the mood to deal with BrookLynn's constant battles with her mother today. The latest one seemed to be something about Lorenzo Alcazar and how he was spending way too much time with Lois. The issue was especially heated, since he was Sage's uncle. Personally, Sam didn't think Brook had anything to worry about, since Lois and Lorenzo, when they were together, screamed 'platonic' in neon letters. But BrookLynn was seventeen, and stubborn, and Lois acted like she was seventeen, and she was just as stubborn as her daughter.

Needless to say, it wasn't a good combination.

Jason wasn't there. He was doing something for Sonny. He didn't offer specifics, and Sam didn't ask. She'd learned not to. It seemed like that was what was just done, and it did make things a lot easier.

The doorbell rang. Thinking it was the delivery man, Sam jumped up from the couch, opened the door--

--and found Monica Quartermaine waiting there. Shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit. "Hi," Sam said, her eyes wide.

Monica smiled graciously. "Hello, Sam. May I come in?"

Sam's eyes grew even wider. She hadn't seen Monica since the benefit, but the look of utter shock on the woman's face was hardly something she was going to forget. "Um, yeah, sure. Come on in." She stepped aside, trying to calm herself down.

Monica walked in, looking around. "Things are still mostly the same from the last time I was here," she remarked.

"Yeah...Dr. Quartermaine, if you're not looking for Jason, he's not here right now..."

"Good," the older woman said briskly. "That'll make this easier."

Sam's eyes grew huge. "Make _what_ easier, exactly?"

"I wanted to talk to you, Sam. About the child you are carrying, which happens to be my grandchild."

Sam blinked. Oh. She really shouldn't have been so surprised, especially not after Alan Quartermaine's visit to her in the hospital. She opened her mouth, not knowing what would come out. "Granddaughter, actually." Monica looked surprised, and Sam elaborated. "I'm having a girl. Jason and I just found out."

"Oh," Monica said, giving her a smile. "Thank--thank you for telling me that."

"Well, you are her grandmother, so..." Sam shrugged.

"That's actually what I came here to talk about," Monica replied. "By now, you must be aware that Jason--doesn't get along all that well with his family. In fact, it's safe to say that he's completely disowned us." The pain the older woman felt at this was clearly evident in her voice, and Sam's heart went out to her. "And of course, we can't stand the fact that he works for the mob--"

"Well, I can't blame you there," Sam said. "I can barely wrap my head around it sometimes." In fact, she hadn't wrapped her head around it at all. She'd just stuck her head in the ground, not hearing, not seeing, and especially not thinking...

...and this wasn't the time to analyze this. Monica looked slightly surprised by Sam's statement, but plowed on. "Do--do you know about Jason's grandmother?"

"Not much, just that she died recently."

"Lila was--wonderful," Monica said softly. "She was the center of the Quartermaine family. Jason adored her, we all did. In fact, she was the only reason he ever bothered much with the rest of us."

"I'm sure that's not--" Sam protested.

"And now that she's gone," Monica continued, "it feels like--like we've lost Jason too. That's why--why I came here. To ask you if you would allow us to be a part of this child's life."

"Of course," Sam said without hesitation. "Yeah, absolutely."

Monica's face broke out into a large smile. "That's--thank you. I'm so relieved to hear that."

The doorbell rang again. Sam went to answer it, and it was Max, carrying a large parcel. "This came for you," he said.

"Ah, thanks, Max," Sam said. "Can you put it there?" Max leaned it against the wall and asked, 'You sure you don't need any help putting it together?"

"I think I can handle it," she reassured him. "Thanks, Max."

He nodded at them and left.

"What is that?" Monica asked.

"Crib for the nursery," Sam explained. "You--you know, if you don't have anywhere to be...maybe you'd want to--help me put it together?" The minute the words left her mouth, she was horrified at herself. What was she thinking? Monica Quartermaine was part of the weathiest family in town, plus she was a well-respected doctor, why on earth would she want to spend time putting together a crib with someone she barely knew? "Forget it, you probably have somewhere important to be--"

"No," Monica said, looking touched. "My shift at the hospital doesn't start until seven, and I have nowhere I need to be until then, so..."

"Oh," Sam said, pleased. "Okay, um...let me get a screwdriver then."

* * *

"I can never find anything in this place," Sam said in frustration, rooting through Jason's desk.

"So," Monica asked, looking around for a topic of conversation, "how are you getting along in Port Charles?"

Sam smiled. "Okay. It's--kind of nice, getting a chance to put down roots. Before, I'd been basically living out of suitcases my entire life."

"I can imagine," she responded. "And things are going well with Jason?"

"Yeah, for the most part," Sam said, then sighed. "I still can't get used to the bodyguards, or Jason running out of the apartment at all hours of the night--you know, the whole mob thing." She winced, looking stricken. 'Sorry, I--I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"It's all right," Monica assured her, even though there was nothing right about this situation. Jason shouldn't have been going out in the middle of nights to carry out assignments from Sonny Corinthos, he should be working at General Hospital, alongside his parents--

But he wasn't. "Well!" Monica said brightly, pushing away her dark thoughts as she realized that Sam had found the screwdriver at last. "We should probably get started on this crib...it's not going to put itself together, after all."

* * *

Monica stared at the directions in utter bewilderment. "This is ridiculous," she said at last in frustration. "I'm a surgeon for God's sake. There is simply no reason why I shouldn't be able to figure this damned thing out."

Sam looked at it over her shoulder. "Well, for one thing," she said gently, "I think you have the diagram upside down."

"Oh." She turned it right-side-up, and frowned. "Still doesn't make any sense."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they finally managed to make some progress. "Where does this little thing go?" Sam asked, holding up a screw.

Monica consulted the directions, which she was finally starting to get. "Over there."

As Sam grabbed the screwdriver, she asked, "Can you do me a favor?"

"What?" Monica asked.

Sam grinned. "Tell me everything there is to know about this town."

Monica laughed. "Sam, we'll be here for centuries if I try to do that."

"Oh, come on!" she pleaded. "I'm new here, and I don't know all the gossip."

Monica considered it. "Well..."

* * *

"This is the strangest town I've ever been in, ever," Sam declared at last. "And I've been in some pretty strange places, Monica." Somewhere in between talking about Monica's second marriage to Alan and the third crazy Cassadine plot, they'd gotten on a first-name basis. Sam continued, "I once went to a town where the mayor had eaten off one of his own legs. But _this_ town has all of those other places beat for weird."

"Yeah, no kidding," Monica agreed.

Sam went on, bewildered. "People die and they come back to life all the time, a madman tries to freeze the world, people try to drop houses on people--"

"I've always thought it had something to with the water," Monica said serenely.

The two women looked at the finished crib triumphantly. "Looks good," Sam said, walking around it.

"Alan'll never believe I did this," Monica said. " _I_ don't even believe it."

Sam grinned. "Just send him to me, I'll make sure he--" she stopped suddenly, looking down at her stomach. "Oh..."

"What is it?" Monica asked, immediately concerned.

Sam looked up, her face filled with awe. "The baby's kicking."

"What--"

"Here. Feel." Sam guided Monica's hand to where the baby was kicking regularly. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes," Monica said softly. "Yes. I feel it."

* * *

"Faith--she's getting cocky," Sonny said, shaking his head as he and Jason came outof the elevator. "I don't like it."

"Relax, Sonny. Now that Alcazar's gone legit, Faith's our only real competition," Jason assured him. "Hey, I want to go check on Sam--"

"All right, I'll come with you." Jason knew that Sonny was oddly fascinated by Sam somehow, and he didn't really like to think of why, because then his thoughts would eventually end up with the name Brenda Barrett, and Jason really didn't want to go there.

He found his keys after a moment of searching, put them in and turned the doorknob--

--to be presented with the sight of a baby crib, stryofoam and packaging strewn all over the floor, and Sam and his mother, Monica, standing in the middle of all this, Monica's hand on Sam's stomach.

Jason stared, completely bewildered. "What--what's all this?"

Sam turned towards him, her face lit up with excitement and joy in a way that he'd never seen before. "Jason, get over here! The baby's kicking!"

Holy shit. "Seriously?" Jason waded through the packaging and came over to her. "Where?"

"Here," Monica said, taking his hand and placing it on Sam's stomach, where her hand had been resting not a moment before. "Right there."

Jason waited, horribly impatient, and then--bam! "Whoa," he said in awe. "How long has this been going on?"

"The last five minutes or so," Sam told him.

The baby continued kicking, harder than ever. "I think we're raising a future kickboxer."

"Or the next Mia Hamm," she joked.

"Congratulations, you two," Sonny put in. Jason turned towards him. For a second, he'd forgotten that Sonny and Monica were in the room. There had been nothing but Sam and their little girl.

"Thanks," Sam said quietly.

Sonny looked at Monica. "Dr. Quartermaine."

"Sonny," Monica replied coolly.

Jason gestured with his free hand towards the crib. "What's this?"

He could swear he'd heard Sam's eyes rolling. "It's a crib, Jason."

"I know that, I mean--did you put this together?"

"Yeah," Sam said, "with your mom's help."

Jason's eyebrows went up. "_You_ helped put this together?" he asked, turning to Monica

Monica quirked an eyebrow. "Don't sound so surprised, Jason. I can be pretty handy with a screwdriver."

Jason turned to Sam. "Okay, maybe we should test it out before the baby gets here. You know, we don' t want the crib collasping the first time we put the baby in it--" Sam whacked him on the arm.

"Nice, Jason."

Monica cleared her throat and looked at her watch. "I have to get back, my shift is going to start soon. It was nice to finally meet you properly, Sam. Jason, I hope I'll see you again soon." She paused. "Sonny."

"Always nice to run into you too, Dr. Quartermaine," Sonny called after her as she left the penthouse.

"Boy, she really doesn't like you, huh?" Sam commented. They both just looked at her, and she nodded. "Oh, this is one of those things that we just don't talk about, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Jason said. He paused. "What was she doing here?"

Sam shrugged. "She just wanted to talk to me."

"About what?" Sonny asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "About the fact that I'm carrying her grandchild."

Jason sighed. He should have known this was going to happen eventually. "Sam, I really don't have much to do with the Quartermaines--"

She threw up her hands. "No. I'm not doing this."

"Sam, hold on--"

"No!" Sam looked irritated, the eariler joy in her face gone. "Jason, I like your mother, okay? She was nice and charming and really sweet to me--"

"To be fair, she does kind of have an agenda," Sonny pointed out.

Sam whirled on him. "No offense, Sonny, but if I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it." She turned back to Jason, dismissing Sonny. "Jason, I already told her she could be a part of this child's life, and I'm not going to go back on my word. She isn't asking for you to become a doctor. She's not asking for you to leave the mob. All she is asking for is the chance to know her granddaughter, and there is no way I am going to deny my child the opportunity to have a loving grandmother in her life."

Jason gritted his teeth. Sam was new to this town, she didn't understand the minefield that was his relationship with the Quartermaines, with his parents. He understood where Sam was coming from, and a part of him--a big part of him--agreed with her. "It's not that simple, Sam," he said quietly. "Sooner or later, the Quartermaines are going to push for more than I can give them."

"They aren't asking anything from you," Sam insisted. "They're asking something from _me_. Jason, you don't have to be involved in this at all. Look, I will handle the Quartermaines if that's what you want. But I see no reason to cut them out of my daughter's life."

Jason took several deep breaths. And he remembered his grandmother. His wonderful, awe-inspiring grandmother, whom he had hurt so many times. She would want this. She would have _really_ wanted this. And if Sam could stand his family, if she could get along with his mother--and it was so clear that she wanted this for their baby. And, really, even if he did say no, would it work? Sam had her own mind, that was crystal clear by this point, and there was a really good chance that she would just sneak around with the baby and take her to the Quartermaines anyway.

And that couldn't happen. He and Sam needed to build trust between them. He needed to be able to trust her fully, and vice versa, in order for this arrangement to work.

"Fine," he said at last. "Fine--my mother can be involved in the baby's life."

"You're serious?" Sam asked, and the light was back in her eyes.

"You can't be serious," Sonny said flatly. Sam gave him a look, and he threw up his hands. "All right, all right--it's none of my business."

"You're right, it isn't," Sam responded. "But I'm glad to hear you say that, Jason," she says, turning around to face him. She sighed. "I'd better start cleaning all this up," she muttered, kicking at a piece of bubble wrap.

"I gotta get back, you know, to my apartment," Sonny said, and walked past Sam. "Sam."

"Sonny." Sam waited until the door closed behind him, then turned to Jason and said, "Okay, I'm sorry, but I just don't like that guy. I know he's your boss and everything, but the way he constantly concerns himself in our business pisses me off."

Jason shrugged. "He's just concerned. Doesn't think this is a good idea. The Quartermaines...they don't like Sonny. In fact, it's safe to say they hate his guts."

"Gee, I wonder why," Sam muttered. She craned her neck and rolled her shoulders. "Okay, can we just--get back to that moment when you were feeling the baby kick and we were so happy and excited?"

"Yeah," Jason said softly, nodding. "Come on, I'll help you clean up."

* * *

After they'd cleaned up the mess and moved the crib to where the nursery would be, Jason and Sam ended up together on the couch, just talking.

Sam was lying on top of him, his hand on her belly. "You know...when I felt the baby kick for the first time," she said, her voice quiet, "...that just made it, all of this, seem real to me. This baby isn't some--abstract idea anymore, it's--it's inside of me. There's this...precious life in me. I'm--I'm going to be a mom."

Jason swallowed. "You know...this is all I wanted to do. Be a father to a child. It didn't matter if it was mine or not...I just wanted to have a kid, because deep down, I knew that was what I was meant to do. Now I finally have that chance."

"This is going to work out okay," Sam said, and rolled around so that she was facing him. "We're going to be okay. All three of us."

"Yeah, we are," Jason said hoarsely, suddenly so aware of her weight on top of him, of her curves and the way she smells. He remembered the softness of her hair, and had to feel that against his fingers again. So he gently stroked her hair, then moved his other hand to cup her face.

Her mouth trembled slightly. "Jason...what are you doing?"

"I have no idea," he whispered. Somehow, their faces have gotten closer to each other. How did that happen? Was he the one to move in, or was it her? Or was it both of them?

"It's...it's not fair," she said. This close, Jason could tell that her eyes weren't brown, but a really beautiful shade of hazel. "I'm four months pregnant, Jason. Hormones. I can't think clearly, especially around you...or any good-looking guy, which means I can't figure out if this--us--would be a horrible idea or not."

"Honestly," Jason admitted, rubbing her soft cheek with his thumb, "neither can I."

Her shoulders, which had been pretty stiff before, seemed to just melt and all the tension went out of her. "If we do this...if we have sex again...what are we going to be?"

He swallowed. God, why was it so hard to think all of a sudden? He was Jason Morgan, clear thinking was what he was known for. "We're going to be two expecting parents," he said quietly. "That's never going to change, Sam. As for the rest...we'll just figure it out as we go along, okay?"

She bit her lip. "Okay. Okay. I believe you." She smiled slightly. "I always believe you."

"Good," he murmered, right before he kissed her.

* * *

In the hours afterward, Sam's thoughts were a haze. The clearest things were how Jason's hands always seemed to linger on her gently rounded belly. How he still tasted the same as the night they had met, months before. How he was gentler this time around.

How some things didn't change. How he still knew how to make her gasp, and groan, and scream.

And when she finally fell asleep, exhausted, there were no dreams of Lucky Spencer, Johnny Depp, or even Jason. Instead, she dreamed of standing in a huge room filled with beautiful baby cribs. And in the most beautiful one of them all, her precious baby girl was sleeping soundly.


	10. ten: realization

_Author's note: I'm so glad to hear that some of you guys are becoming intrigued by the Lucky/Sam pairing. Means I'm doing my job. And as for what's happening on the show—quite frankly, I think it's crap. I have a ton of respect for the actors, (Nancy Lee Grahn, who plays Alexis, in particular is kicking ass) but I think the writers are screwing up BOTH Alexis and Sam, and that killing Sam's baby off was completely unnecessary. But I don't have control over the show. I do, however, have control over this story, which means that there is NO WAY I'm killing Sam's baby off. I'm going to say it flat-out, Sam's baby will live in this story, thankyouverymuch. _

_In happier news, I was so thrilled and vindicated today. Okay, you know that Fun in the Sun thing that ABC Daytime is doing, (and God knows why, since it's November) on there, Greg Vaughan was shown as saying that since Jason had stolen Elizabeth, Lucky should have a chance to steal Sam. HEE! I'm not the only one who sees it! Told you! (Not that I seriously think they'll go there, since Frons has confirmed that it's Jason/Sam and Elizabeth/Lucky all the way for now. But still. Heh.) And if you're still with me after all that, I commend you, and now—the new chapter!_

* * *

He'd forgotten about the freckles. How the hell had he forgotten the freckles? The last time they'd been together, he'd played connect-the-dots with his fingers...and then his tongue.

But other things he remembered. The way she gasped, the way she could scream. How to make her scream.

He looked down at her. Sam had wrapped herself around him immediately afterwards. Her arm was wrapped around him, and her head rested on his chest. She was sleeping peacefully.

Jason had forgotten what this was like. Falling asleep with someone. Knowing they'd be there in the morning. _Wanting_ them to be there in the morning.

And he hoped to God that this night, she wouldn't want to run.

The phone rang, piercing the silence. Jason groaned and turned towards the dresser. Sam stirred, but didn't wake up. He picked up the phone. " 'Lo," he muttered.

"Jason, it's Sonny. Come over to the apartment right away."

He stifled a groan. "Now? Sonny, it's the middle of the night."

"It's an emergency, Jason."

Any other night, Jason would have gotten up immediately and come over without thinking about it. But Sam...he didn't want to leave her, alone in his bed. He wanted to stay...to fall asleep with his hand on her belly. That was what he wanted to do.

"Sure, I'll be right over," he said with a slight sigh.

If Sonny heard the slight sigh, he made no comment. Instead, he just said, "See you soon."

Slowly, Jason slid out of her warm embrace. He prayed she wouldn't wake up...and she didn't.

He glanced at her, tangled up in the dark sheets in his huge bed...and then he left.

* * *

She knew he was gone the minute she opened her eyes. 

Slowly, Sam sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

Well, she'd finally gotten laid. Too bad Jason hadn't felt the need to stick around. Hell, last time he'd at least said goodbye before walking out.

Sam slid out of the bed, rubbing her aching lower back. She quickly grabbed the nearest shirt she could find--which happened to be Jason's.

Walking quickly to her room, she kept an ear open for any sound, something that meant Jason was still in the apartment. But there was nothing, except the hum of the air conditioner.

Except--Sam frowned and listened harder. There were noises. Voices. Yelling. What was it, next door? No, no, across the hall.

Sam's eyes widened. She went into her room, grabbed a pair of running pants, slid them on, and went to go investigate.

The minute she walked into the hallway, the yelling grew clearer. And yes, it was coming from Sonny's apartment.

Sam glared at the closed door. What the hell were they thinking? It was late in the night, or maybe really early in the morning--anyway, this was no time to be having a huge fight. Besides, weren't there kids in there?

Gritting her teeth, Sam stalked over and opened the door, which was unlocked.

Jason, Sonny, and Carly turned towards her, surprised. Sam noticed with not a little amount of shock, that Carly had been crying. "What the hell's going on?" she asked, bewildered.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" Jason asked.

Sam stepped inside the penthouse. "I could hear the yelling all across the hall," she explained. "Besides, you were gone."

He looked down. "Don't worry, Sam. Go back to the penthouse."

She bristled at the dismissal. "What's going on?" she repeated.

"I found my dad," Carly told her.

Sam blinked. "And...that's a bad thing?"

"Carly," Sonny interrupted, clearly annoyed. "Don't."

Carly ignored her husband. "I never knew my dad—in fact, I didn't even know who he was. I was adopted, moved here to find my mom...anyway, she—she finally told me who my biological father is. And I found him."

"Well, that's—great," Sam said. "Isn't it?"

"He's a federal prosecutor, Sam," Jason explained.

Sam's eyes grew huge. "Ah. And you're in the mob—" she smiled slightly. "Wow. You—you have to appreciate the irony." Everyone just stared at her. "Or maybe that's just me."

Sonny turned to Carly. "You cannot meet this man."

Carly looked close to breaking into tears again. "Sonny, he's my _father_."

Sam winced. For the first time ever, she actually felt something besides annoyance for Carly. It was compassion. Hell, five years ago, Sam had been _exactly_ where Carly was now.

Jason turned to Sam. "Sam, you've been here before, right? With your mom in South Carolina?"

Sam's eyes widened. She couldn't believe he was dragging her into this. "Yeah. Um. My mom abandoned me when I was a baby, and when I was seventeen, I decided to look for her."

"And didn't it go badly?" Jason prodded.

Sam laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, it did." Carly folded her arms, and Sam stepped closer to her. "She—she wanted nothing to do with me. Called me trash to my face. It—it was horrible." She paused, feeling that old heartbreak again. "But—I'm still glad I did it."

Carly's eyes widened with hope. "You are?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Sam said. "After all those years of wondering—now I knew. I could let go of it, I could finally move on. Carly—as badly as it went, it was still—freeing, in a way. I wasn't defined by it anymore. I wasn't the kid whose mom had abandoned her or whose father hadn't wanted her. I was just me. So, if you want to go see your dad...no matter what he does...you've got my support at least."

Carly looked touched. "Thanks."

"He's a federal prosecutor!" Sonny burst out. "Honey, I'm sorry, but you could put all of us in danger—"

"Oh, give me a break," Sam groaned.

Sonny's nostrils flared. "Excuse me?"

Sam rolled her eyes. Was she supposed to be intimidated by this guy? He was her size, for Christ's sake, and she was _tiny_. "Sonny, you and Jason put us in danger every single day. That's the reason we have the bodyguards, right? And—and the bulletproof windows? You put us in danger because you won't leave the business, and we have to put up with it. And now you have the nerve to order your wife not to meet her own father because it's too _dangerous_?"

Sonny and Jason stared at her. "Sam—" Jason started.

"And you!" she exclaimed, turning to him. "I'm not at all surprised that _Sonny_ is this controlling, but come on, Jason. You're _better_ than this. At least I hope you are."

Jason had the grace to look ashamed.

Sam sighed, "I'm going to bed. And do me a favor? Keep the yelling down." She stretched. "Ack. My back's killing me. Night everyone."

"Night," Jason muttered.

"Goodnight, Sam," Carly said, and Sam was glad to see that she seemed better.

Sonny didn't say anything, which was fine by Sam. She walked out, gently closing the door behind her.

* * *

When Jason finally got back, Sam wasn't in his bedroom. 

He knew there was no reason to be disappointed. So he squared his shoulders and went to hers.

Her back was facing him as he opened the door. "I know you're not asleep," he called out.

Sam flopped around and turned to him. "You're a jackass, you know that? And Sonny's a bigger jackass."

He shuffled his feet. "Carly's dad...his name is John Durant. He's a federal prosecutor who's been going after organized crime for years. He's a threat, Sam."

"You don't even know the guy."

"I know he's ruthless. I know he's going to see Carly as a way to take Sonny down. This isn't going to have a happy ending."

"Carly's a grown woman," Sam pointed out. "She's old enough to make her own decisions, and you can't make them for her."

Jason sighed. "Sam, I've been taking care of Carly for—for as long as we've known each other. It's what I do."

"You can't protect her forever," she pointed out.

"Maybe not. But I can try."

Sam sighed. "Whatever. Just keep the volume down. And aren't the kids there? Do they reallyneed to hear you yelling so loudly?"

Jason groaned, realizing that Michael and Morgan had been upstairs the whole time. It had mostly been Sonny yelling, but still…"Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh?"

"Yeah. It was." She stretched and looked at him. "You going to stand there forever?"

Jason took no responsibility for what came out of his mouth next. "Can I stay with you?"

Sam stared at him, her eyes wide. Jason fought the urge to look around for who had said that, then when he realized that he'd been the one to say it, he almost clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. "I mean...I didn't..."

"Okay," she said abruptly, shifting to the next side of the bed.

Jason knew his eyes were huge, and he also knew that wasn't a really flattering look for him, but he couldn't help it. "You sure?"

She gave him a look. "Get in already, Morgan."

He wasn't about to disobey that. He quickly slid in next to her.

She plucked at the sleeve of his shirt. "Take this off," she whispered.

Jason almost choked. "Really?" She gave him a look, and he immediately removed his shirt. "Can...can I ask why?"

"You look good without a shirt," she responded promptly, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest.

"Oh. Okay."

He'd forgotten what this was like. Sleeping next to someone who was soft and warm and who smelled good.

And before he realized it, he was asleep.

* * *

"Monica?" 

Monica turned around to see Sam, in a black t-shirt with the words _'Chaos, panic, and disorder. My work here is done'_. Her belly was slightly showing beneath the fabric. "Hello, Sam. Nice shirt."

"Thanks," Sam said brightly. She reached into her purse and pulled out a watch. "You left this at the apartment yesterday, thought I'd bring it back."

"Oh, thank you," Monica said. "I was wondering where the thing had gone." As she fastened it around her wrist, Monica asked, "So, how are you doing?"

"Good. You?"

"Fine," Monica said. "And how are things at the penthouse?"

"Aside from all the yelling in the middle of the night? They're great."

Monica's eyes widened. "Yelling?"

Sam waved a hand. "Sonny and Carly...it's a long story."

Impulsively, Monica asked, "Why don't you tell me about it at dinner?"

"Dinner?" Sam repeated, looking surprised.

"Well, yes. With me, and with Alan. I know he's eager to get to know you better, and—they do have some decent restaurants in Port Charles..." It was strange, how nervous she was about this.

Sam smiled softly. "Yeah. You know what, that sounds like a good idea. I'd love to."

"Good," Monica said, beaming and ridiculously relieved that she'd said yes. "How about this Friday?"

"Okay, yeah," Sam said, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, crap, I've got to get back to work."

* * *

"Dillon, for the last time, _no_." 

"Oh, come on, Sam!" Dillon pleaded. "Just fifteen minutes, please..."

"Dillon, if you want to learn about the mob, go to the library," Sam ordered him. "Watch the _Godfather_, or _Goodfellas_, or even _Corky Romano_. But there is no way I'm going to let you try to grill Jason about life as a mob enforcer. And there's even less of a chance that he's going to actually answer any of your questions. Now, please stop following me!"

Dillon blinked. "I'm following you?"

Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "Dillon. You've been following me for the past twenty minutes!"

He looked around, and seemed shocked to realize they were no longer in L&B's, but actually on the street. "Whoa." He looked sheepish and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sorry. Really didn't mean to play creepy-stalker-guy."

"It's all right," Sam said. "Now...go and make out with Georgie."

Dillon tilted his head. "You know, that's actually a good idea. Bye, Sam."

"Bye, Dillon," she called after his rapidly retreating form, for once thankful for teenage hormones. Sam went into the bookstore, the bell on the door jingling as she went in.

As she wandered around the aisles, she nearly bumped into someone. "Ooh, sorry, I didn't--" Then she looked up, and realized it was Lucky.

"Hey," he said, smiling down at her. "Didn't figure you for the fix-it-yourself girl."

She looked around, and sure enough, she was in the hardware section. "Oh. Not really. But I did put together a baby crib. Course, I had help. I'm actually looking for the baby section."

"Oh. Uhhh....the child-rearing section is over there. I go there occasionally so I can help out with my sister," he said. At Sam's questioning look, he explained, "My dad's not really around...and I kind of have to fill in."

"Oh," Sam said. "Wanna come with?"

* * *

They'd ended up sitting in two comfy chairs, reading parts out loud. "Oh boy," Sam muttered. 

"What is it?" Lucky asked.

She looked up. "Lucky, according to this, I'm supposed to get Jason to read literature to the baby while it's still in my womb. Like, Shakespeare or something." Sam stared at him. "How the hell am I supposed to get Jason to read Shakespeare?"

Lucky suddenly got a vision of Jason saying out loud, 'To be or not to be', and had to force back a snort of laughter.

"I hate classical music," Sam moaned, reading on. "Maybe I can use headphones..."

"Does it _have_ to be classical?" Lucky asked.

"Maybe I could play some rock..." Sam mused.

"What, like AC/DC? Aerosmith? Rolling Stones?" Lucky flipped through another baby book. "Maybe instead of playing whale songs during the birth, you could play _Back in Black_."

Sam grinned, considering it. "The nurses would probably drop dead from the shock. Not a bad idea."

Lucky hummed a bit of the chorus. "So, how have things been going with you?"

"Good, they're good." Sam paused. "Lucky, what do you know about the Quartermaines? Specifically, Monica and Alan."

"Why do you ask?"

She sighed, crossing her legs. "Well, Monica came over yesterday, and—she wanted to know if I'd let her be involved with the baby's life. And I said yes, and before I knew it, we were bonding over nuts and bolts and the most complicated directions known to man."

Lucky gave her a look, confused. "What?"

She waved a hand. "You had to be there. And—I don't know. I mean, I like her, and there's no way I'm prepared to shut my baby's grandparents out of her life—"

"Her?" he repeated.

"Oh," Sam said, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's—it's a girl."

"Congratulations," he said, smiling at her.

"Yeah. But—I don't know. I mean, the Quartermaines are high-class. They're one of the richest families in town—and—and I don't even know what forks are supposed to be used for the salad!"

"Sam, relax. I don't think the Quartermaines are going to judge you. You said that you and Monica got along well yesterday—"

"No, we did. She was charming and nice…I like her." Sam swallowed. "Plus…my own mom's definitely not going to pull the doting grandmother thing, so…it's a good idea, right? Letting the Quartermaines be a part of my daughter's life?" She looked at him. "Lucky, for the love of God, you might be the only person in my life right now who can give me an unbiased opinion."

"I think letting the Quartermaines be a part of the baby's life is a good idea," Lucky told her.

"Good," Sam said, sitting back in her chair. "That's what I thought too. It's nice to hear someone back me up."

* * *

Coming back to the penthouse with her purchases, Sam almost dropped them when she opened the door to find Carly sitting on the couch. "Carly," she said warily. Sam had come to the other woman's defense last night, but that didn't mean they were best friends now. 

Carly stood up. "Hey, Sam." Sam had to admit, Carly's tone was more civil than she'd ever heard it before.

"Are you here to see Jason?" Sam asked, laying her bag on the desk.

"Yeah, he just left. Um…I wanted to say thanks. For what you did last night, stepping in like that."

Almost on a whim, Sam asked, "Do they always order you around like that?"

"They're just concerned," Carly said, brushing it off. "But, uh, I know I wasn't that great to you when you first came here—"

"No kidding."

"—but it wasn't my place to interfere. And I'm sorry."

Sam shrugged, deciding to be the bigger person and simply let it go. "Yeah, it's okay."

Carly shifted from one foot to the other. "So, you're becoming friends with my cousin, Lucky, huh?"

"Yes…" Sam said warily, waiting to see where this was going.

Carly nodded. "You do realize he's a cop, right?"

Sam's jaw dropped. She knew where this was going now. "Please do not tell me your husband sent you here to warn me away—"

"No, no, he didn't," Carly insisted, holding her hands out. "It's just—Sam, once you choose this life…you have to go in all the way, you know? It's all or nothing with Sonny and Jason. There's no middle ground, especially when there's a cop involved."

"Well, then, that's just going to have to change," Sam said shortly. "I'm sorry, but my life has been completely uprooted already. I'm not going to conform to their rules any more than I already have."

"It's none of my business, I know," Carly said apologetically.

"Then why bring it up?" Sam asked.

"Because—you just can't have it both ways, Sam. You can't live here with Jason and be Lucky's friend at the same time. Sooner or later, you will have to choose between them."

"Why?" Sam demanded. "Lucky hasn't asked me to choose. He hasn't grilled me about Jason's work, and the fact is, Carly, I couldn't tell him anything anyway."

"I know, but—"

"Not that I have to justify anything to you," Sam continued, "but Lucky is a nice guy. I like him. I like talking to him. Especially since Jason is the strong and silent type, emphasis on the silent part."

Carly sighed. "Sam—it's none of my business, and God knows I don't want to be doing this—but I've been there, okay? I tried to straddle the line, to find a compromise, and you know what? It tore my family apart. I almost lost my marriage and my kids because I didn't understand that once you went into this, you stayed in. I made a choice to stay. And I don't want to see Jason hurt."

"He's not going to get hurt," Sam said tightly.

Carly sighed again. "At least I tried," she muttered. "Bye, Sam."

"Good-bye."

As the door shut behind Carly, Sam took a deep breath. The penthouse suddenly felt so confining…so shut in.

Quickly, Sam went to a nearby window and held it open. As she breathed in the warm air, she couldn't help but think about what Carly had said. About the sadness in her dark brown eyes. The sadness…and the knowledge.

But Sam wasn't Carly. Sonny Corinthos and Jason did not rule her life. Jason may have brought her here, but he didn't rule her life. Sam still had her independence—

_Sure, you do, Sammie-girl. You're living here, him paying all the bills, paying for your clothes, your food, you're carrying his baby, and you still think you can walk out if you feel like it?_

The voice in her head sounded exactly like Cody McCall.

Sam let out a long sigh. No. Sam still had her common sense, it wasn't like pregnancy had eaten away at her brain. She wouldn't become Jason's mouthpiece. She wouldn't let him become her whole world, she wouldn't become his parrot, she wouldn't uproot her life anymore than she already had just because it would make his boss feel more secure.

Lucky was a nice guy. She liked spending time with him. She liked getting to know Jason's mother, and she was looking forward to having dinner with his parents.

And if Jason and Sonny Corinthos didn't like that, that was just too damn bad.

* * *

"Hello, Sam. Is Sage ready to go yet?" 

"No," Sam said with an apologetic smile. "She's still in there, brainstorming with Ned. Once those two get started writing, it's almost impossible to tear them away."

Lorenzo Alcazar smiled back. "Tell me about it. The number of times I get calls from her math teacher, complaining about her writing song lyrics instead of logarithms…"

Sam laughed. "Can't say I blame her. She's really talented too. You should be proud."

"I am," he said quietly. "Well, since it most likely is going to be a while, would you mind very much if I sat here and…" he glanced at the magazines on the table, "and pondered the durability of OutKast?"

Sam laughed again. "Be my guest," she said, standing up to put away some papers. As she did so, she couldn't help but notice that Lorenzo's gaze was on her slightly rounded belly.

"How far along are you?" he asked abruptly.

Sam blinked. "Um, four and a half months. Why?"

He didn't answer her question, instead saying, "Sage likes you, you know."

"Well, I like her too," Sam said.

Lorenzo continued, almost meditative, his gaze fixed on some far-away point. "And you've always been polite and friendly to me, which given my history with Sonny and Jason, is rather—surprising, to say the least."

Sam had no idea where he was going with this. "I make up my own mind about people."

His eyes finally settled on her face. "You seem to be a very rational person. I admire that."

"Uh…thanks, I guess."

Lorenzo paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "You know that I used to be in the mob. It's…a dangerous life, Sam, filled with the constant threat of violence and death."

Sam sucked in a breath. _Now_ she knew where he was going. "I know that," she said quietly.

"There was a time…when I didn't care about the danger," Lorenzo told her. "But then Sage came to live with me, and…eventually, her life was no longer an acceptable risk. So I got out."

"That's good," she said. "Sage adores you, you know. She'd be heartbroken if something were to happen to you."

Lorenzo looked at her steadily. "Sam, I left that world. Sonny and Jason won't. Not ever. They—they _like_ living that life. The danger, the threats…as strange as it may seem, they _enjoy_ it."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked in a whisper.

"Because as I said, my niece happens to like you," Lorenzo replied. "I know you've made the decision to stay with Jason, and I'm not about to try and talk you out of it. Just—be careful. Will you do that?"

Sam unconsciously rubbed her stomach, and widened her eyes as Lorenzo's gaze followed her movements. "Okay," she said. "Okay, I will. I'll—I'll be careful."

"Good."

Twenty minutes later, Sage finally exited the studio and left with her uncle. Sam didn't know whether to be relieved to see Lorenzo leave…

…or whether to follow him and demand an explanation. Because it was very clear that Lorenzo had been censoring himself. He could have told her more, but he had chosen to be vague. He had given her a broad warning, without telling her exactly what she should be afraid of.

And she knew that him asking about her pregnancy had been deliberate. He wanted her to be careful, not just for herself, but for her child as well.

Which meant that both of them, Sam and the baby, were in danger.

Sam's first thought was to call Jason and ask. But she knew that wouldn't work. Jason—his mind just worked differently than hers. They were complete opposites in every way. It wasn't that Sam distrusted Jason, because she knew he would have said something if she thought she was in danger.

But Jason's ideas of danger were probably a lot different than hers. She needed someone who thought the way she did.

Lucky. But then—she couldn't put Lucky in that position. He would tell her the truth, she believed that, but if Sonny and Jason found out, they would accuse him of interfering, of trying to turn Sam against them.

"_I hope…that you'll consider turning to the Quartermaines. Despite Jason's feelings."_

The Quartermaines. Sam was having dinner with them tomorrow…she could ask them. Yeah.

Her mind made up, Sam went back to her work.

* * *

"I don't like it," Sonny stated, shaking his head. "I just don't like it." 

Jason sighed as he looked through the shipping contracts. "Sonny, she's already on the plane to Manhattan. It's done. Carly's meeting Durant, and there's nothing we can do about that."

Sonny couldn't let it go. "You know she has no plan for what she's going to do now? I mean it, Jason, I asked her what she was going to say when she met him, and you know what she said? 'I don't know, Sonny, I'll see when I get there'. " He threw up his hands in disbelief. "And this is _Carly_ we're talking about, Jason, God knows _what's_ going to come out of her mouth—"

Jason rubbed his face. "Sonny, Sonny—Carly would never do anything to jeopardize her family. We can't do anything about it right now."

Intellectually, Sonny knew Jason was right. He even knew that Carly deserved the right to know her own father. But the risk…it was too much for him to accept.

However, no one seemed to care these days what he could accept. Sonny glanced around the apartment, and his eyes lit upon a box of DVDs. "Since when do you watch the Sopranos?" he wondered out loud.

Jason glanced up from the contracts. "Oh, those are Sam's. Calls them research."

Sonny smirked at the thought. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Uhh…think she's upstairs."

As if on cue, Sam came downstairs, wearing a dark blue knee-length dress. "Bye," she called out.

"Whoa, where are you going?"

Sam stopped on her way to the door. "To dinner at the Grille. And before you ask, I'm not having dinner with Lucky."

"I didn't ask if you were going to have dinner with Lucky," Jason said.

"You were going to," Sam countered. "But I'm actually having dinner with your parents."

Sonny and Jason both stared at her. "You're what?" Jason said finally. "Why?"

"Your mom asked if I wanted to go to dinner, I said yes." Sam folded her arms, clearly waiting for an argument.

Sonny looked at Jason. "You—you think this is a good idea?" he asked.

Jason shrugged and looked at Sam. "Sam—"

"You know, Sonny," Sam said coolly, ignoring Jason, "I'm a little curious as to why this bothers you so much."

Sonny looked at her and said calmly, "The Quartermaines are trying to manipulate you to get to Jason. That concerns me. Jason's my right-hand man, not to mention my best friend—when someone tries to get to Jason using his child—"

"You're paranoid," Sam declared. "And I'm leaving."

"Wait, wait, hold up, Sam—" Sonny said, frustrated by her refusal to listen to him.

Sam, who had turned towards the door, whirled around again. "Listen to me very closely, Sonny. Are you listening?" At his nod, she continued brazenly, "I really don't give a shit about your opinions. This is _Jason's_ child that I am carrying. I'm living in _Jason's_ apartment, and it is _Jason's_ family that I'm about to meet with. And none of this—not the Quartermaines or me or this baby—have anything to do with you."

Sonny's jaw tightened. "You know what?" he said softly. "I'm going to let that slide, because you're new in town, and you don't understand how things work—"

"Oh, I think I understand things very well," Sam replied calmly, smirking at him. "I understand that you think you can just order me around like you do everyone else you come into contact with. But that's not happening, Sonny. Not now, not ever. So back the fuck off already."

Sonny knew his mouth had fallen open slightly, and that it really wasn't a good look for him, but he couldn't help it. Holy shit. Who the hell did she think she was—

"Jason," Sam continued, her voice now breezy and unconcerned, as if the heated conversation she'd just had with Sonny hadn't occurred, "I'm taking Max and I'm not quite sure when I'll be back, okay?"

To Sonny's disbelief, Jason just waved a hand. "All right."

All _right_?

Sam smiled at him quickly. "Bye, Jason." And with that, she walked out the door and was gone.

Sonny turned to Jason in disbelief. "What the _hell _was that?"

Jason sighed. "Sonny, don't—don't push it, alright?"

"I didn't push anything!" he protested. "She just came down here and proceeded to chew me out for no reason—"

"Sonny, Sonny," Jason said. "Listen to me, all right?" At Sonny's nod, he continued, ticking off his points on his fingers. "One, Sam doesn't like you. Two, she's not afraid of you. Three, she has absolutely no problem speaking her mind. Which means that if you piss her off—which you seem to do a _lot_—she's going to say something about it." Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "Plus, you know, I think she's got a point. The Quartermaines are my problem to handle, not yours."

Sonny almost looked around in bewilderment. Was he in the Twilight Zone or something? "Of course the Quartermaines are my concern," he insisted. "Michael's my son, isn't he? You know the Quartermaines have always had a problem with that—"

"Michael's not even an issue, Sonny," Jason told him. "Look, for some reason, Sam likes my family, and I don't want to make a big deal about this. She's just having dinner with them. It's not a problem."

"Right, right…" Sonny muttered. He didn't understand why Jason couldn't see this the way he could…but it didn't matter. He'd get Max to report to him what exactly would be said at that dinner table…then he'd know for sure if the Quartermaines were making another play for Michael.

* * *

"Is my tie all right?" Alan asked anxiously. 

"Alan, your tie's fine," his wife reassured him. "It's just dinner."

"Right, I know," Alan said. "It's just—I don't want—I don't want this to be like it was with Michael and Carly."

"Sam's not Carly," Monica said. "For one thing, she's a lot more rational."

"Thank God for small favors," Alan muttered as he pulled into the parking lot.

Monica quirked an eyebrow at her husband. "Alan, the fact that we're being spared from Carly: Part Two isn't a small favor, it's a big one."

Alan considered. "Good point." He turned off the engine. "Well, shall we?"

* * *

To his utter shock and total delight, Alanwas finding out that Monica had been right. Sam was nothing like Carly. She was charming and respectful and Alan still couldn't figure out how Jason had ended up with a girl that was so…_normal_. 

"We're having a Nurses' Ball in a while," Monica was saying. "You should attend. It'll be fun."

"Yes, if there isn't a shootout by then," Alan muttered, remembering his discussion with Mac a few days ago.

"Alan—" Monica gave him a warning look, clearly not wanting to bring up anything mob-related over dinner. But that just wasn't possible. _Everything_ came back to the mob these days.

"I'm sorry, Monica, but I really do think we'll need to beef up security this year. According to Mac, there seem to be some rumblings between Faith Rosco and that midget."

Sam choked on her club soda. "Did—did you just refer to Sonny as a midget?" she asked delightedly.

"I most certainly did," Alan responded. "How that man can swagger around—"

Sam was giggling. "I thought I was the only one that noticed. And really, his attempts at intimidation are just—lame."

"He's tried to intimidate you?" Monica asked, concerned.

Sam waved a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, don't worry about it. I give as good as I get." She frowned slightly. "There's been more violence?"

"Yes," Alan said. "A couple of assaults, there's even been some talk of gunfire, although of course, neither side will admit to anything." Alan tried very hard not to think about Jason being involved in that, even though he most likely was.

Sam bit her lip. "You know…I was talking to Lorenzo Alcazar the other day…"

"Better not tell Sonny," Monica warned her. "He loathes Alcazar."

"All the more reason for me to tell him," Sam quipped. "But…Lorenzo gave me a…warning. He was really vague, but the way he talked, it was as if he thought there was a specific danger against me…and the baby, and that it was coming from Sonny and Jason. Do you know what he could mean?"

Alan thought hard, willing his mind to stay clear and focused, not to panic. "Aside from the mob violence, which you already know about…I can't think of anything. I mean, Jason would never do anything to—"

"Oh, I know _that_," Sam reassured him.

"And Sonny's always given the impression of being devoted to his children…" Monica trailed off, and her eyes widened. "Oh God."

"What?" Sam's eyes were just as wide with worry. "What is it? What did Sonny do?'"

Monica put her face in her hands. "Now I remember…of course Alcazar would be the one to…Good Lord, he was _there_ when it happened!"

"When what happened?" Sam burst out, clearly starting to panic.

"Alan, you remember," Monica said. "_Carly_."

And with that, Alan realized what Alcazar had been hinting at. He groaned. "Oh God." The thought of trying to explain this to Sam…the poor girl would panic, and rightfully so.

"You have to tell me," Sam pleaded with both of them. "I can't go to Jason, he'd just give me the runaround…and I didn't want to bring Lucky into this. Please. Just tell me."

Alan sighed. She had a right to know, to walk in with her eyes open…or to walk out. "Have you ever seen Carly's youngest child? Morgan?"

"Yeah," Sam said warily. "He's a cute baby."

Monica decided to take up the tale. "Well…when Carly was pregnant with Morgan, there was…an incident."

"What _kind _of incident?"

And so they told her.

* * *

Sam McCall was on the verge of passing out. This had never happened to her before Port Charles. 

Clearly, Monica was right. There _was_ something in the water. How else could you explain these people?

"Sam?" Alan asked worriedly. "Sam, please say something."

She blinked, then finally croaked, "Sonny…shot his wife. In the head."

Monica wore an expression of sympathy. "Yes, he did."

"And she was giving birth at the time. To their child."

"Yes."

Sam took a deep breath. "Well, it's a good thing you're both doctors, because I think I'm about to pass out."

"All right, remember to breathe," Monica counseled her in a soothing voice.

Sam stared at her and said flatly, "I just found out that my neighbor shot his pregnant wife in the head and got away with it, scot-free, and you expect me to _breathe_?"

"She's got a point," Alan muttered, then said, "Sam, in no way are we excusing what Sonny did—we just don't want you to panic."

Sam wasn't really paying attention. "Carly went _back _to him?" How the _hell_ did that happen? What woman in her right mind would go back to a man who had shot her in the head and put her in a coma?

"There was a brief fling with Alcazar, a pretense at divorce, even a custody battle," Monica recounted. "Sam, the first thing you will learn is this: Sonny and Carly always get back together. Always. No matter who's in the way, no matter how twisted and dysfunctional their relationship becomes—they get back together."

Sam rubbed at her face fretfully. "This is what you were warning me about," she realized, talking to Alan. "In the hospital."

Alan looked weary. "Yes, partially. I was also concerned about the dangers of kidnappings or an attempt to hurt you or the baby…"

Sam buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God."

"I know this is a lot to absorb—"

Sam lifted her head and in a dull voice, said, "Back in the beginning of all this—Jason—Jason looked me right in the eyes and _promised_ me that everything was going to be okay. He promised that I would be safe." She focused on Alan and Monica's stricken faces. "He _promised_. And the thing is," she realized, "he wasn't lying. Or he didn't think he was lying, at least. He really believed I would be all right, even though he wanted to stash me across the hall from a man who'd shot his pregnant wife in the head. He really thinks I'll be okay."

Clearly pained, Alan shook his head. "I haven't understood Jason's thought processes in years."

"What do you want to do now?" Monica asked gently. "Sam, you have to know that we'll try and support you any way we can—"

"I know," Sam murmered as she stood up. "I know, and believe me, I'm so grateful for that…but I just—I need to think right now. Alone."

She quickly fled.

* * *

It was pretty safe to say that Lucky was having a rotten day. In fact, he'd been having a rotten day for months now. His mom, Luke, Skye…all of it, all of the huge mess that was currently making his life hell. 

Not for the first time, his mind replayed the conversation he'd had with Ric Lansing earlier.

"_Have you heard the news yet, Lucky?"_

"_No, what?"_

_Ric sighed. "Lucky, Skye escaped from prison last night."_

_Lucky folded his arms. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's probably a good thing, because I don't believe she belongs there. And if you were willing to be honest with yourself, you'd admit that deep down you think the exact same thing."_

"_Lucky, even if I have doubts, which I'm not saying I do—" Lucky snorted at this, "it doesn't matter. Think of how this looks. A convicted cop killer escapes from a maximum security prison. Skye just ruined any chances she had at leniency."_

"_Ric, I'm sorry, but this is crap and you know it," Lucky said heatedly. "Come on, you're the DA and you're having doubts about whether the right person was put in jail. Why the hell aren't you mounting a full-scale investigation?"_

"_You think I don't want to?" Ric burst out. "The idea that I sent an innocent woman to prison makes me want to throw up, all right? I get sick to my stomach every time I think about it, but my hands are tied, Lucky. I've got the mayor breathing down my damn neck—" He stopped abruptly, clearly not meaning to say that last part._

"_Mayor?" Lucky repeated stupidly, not understanding. "What about the mayor? What does he have to do with this?" This was the first time he'd heard anything about the mayor._

_Ric let out another long sigh. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that…"_

"_Well, you did. So you might as well finish what you started. Just tell me the truth."_

_Ric sighed. "Okay. The truth is that…ever since Skye was convicted, the mayor's been heavily leaning on me to make sure she stays in prison. At—at first I thought it was just about him looking good or not wanting the killer of a cop to get free, but—it's like he's got a personal stake in this."_

"_That's why you've been trying to get me to back off," Lucky realized._

_Ric looked up at that. "No, **that** was because the mayor made it very clear that if you were to continue investigating, you'd lose your job and the PCPD would lose a hell of a lot of funding. We're scraping by as it is."_

_Lucky groans. "Unbelievable. You think he's being bribed?"_

"_Does my half-brother have an ego?" Ric asked sarcastically. "Of course he's being bribed! Damned if I can figure out by who…"_

"_So…where do we go now?" Lucky asked despairingly. If the mayor was going to block him at every turn and if he didn't have any official backing…_

_Ric looked at him. "I don't know. Officially, you know Mac and I can't give you any help. But if, on your own time, you were to find something, some shred of evidence to prove Skye's innocence…I might be able to work with that."_

_Lucky shook his head. "Ric, I've been looking for months. Nikolas has hired an army of private detectives to look for my parents and so far there's been nothing."_

"_Then I'm sorry, Lucky, but I've got nothing else that can help you."_

Yep, Lucky was really having a rotten day. He'd thought it was bad when it had seemed to be Ric that was keeping him back, but now that he'd found out it was the Mayor…he was so screwed. So totally screwed.

He couldn't go to a judge with just a hunch that his dad hadn't willingly written that letter. No matter how strong his hunch felt, that had _been_ his dad's handwriting. It didn't matter that he had doubts, that Ric Lansing had doubts. The case was closed, and he didn't know how to reopen it.

He didn't know how to fix this, how to clear Skye's name, find his parents, cure his mom…in short, he didn't have a damn clue on how to fix his life.

Yeah. He really was having a rotten day.

He leaned against the park bench and stared up at the sky. The moon was half-full tonight and the stars were out. Not for the first time, he was glad he didn't live in a place like New York, where the starlight was drowned out by the lights of the city.

"Guess I'm just a small-town boy at heart," he murmered, amused at himself.

"I would say so," a female and familiar voice said.

Lucky twisted his head to see Sam standing behind him, smiling faintly. Despite the smile, it was pretty clear that she was upset. "Hey. Are you all right?"

"I'm fi—" Sam checked herself. "No, actually I'm not. Mind if I sit?"

"Sure." Lucky's voice was maybe a little more eager than it should have been. But then, was it so bad to want some company? To want to focus on someone else's problems?

As long as he didn't focus on Sam's hair or how pretty she looked tonight, it would be okay.

Whoa. Where the hell did _that_ come from?

He snapped out of it, thank God, and made room for her on the park bench. "So, what's going on? Didn't you have that dinner with the Quartermaines?"

"You remembered that?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Lucky said, shrugging it off. "Did something go wrong?"

"No, no, Alan and Monica were great," Sam said. "They were friendly and kind, it went really well. Until I found out that I'm apparently living next door to a man that shot his wife in the head while she was in labor."

Oh, shit. Lucky winced. "Yeah. That…" He shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Tell me that I don't have a reason to be afraid," Sam said hoarsely. "Tell me that it's an exaggeration, that it didn't really happen, that—Sonny isn't dangerous."

Lucky closed his eyes at the pleading tone in her voice. "I can't," he whispered softly.

"Because it'd be a lie," she finished for him, staring down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. "I'm so scared, Lucky," she said in a meek voice.

Looking at her, so small and so—so fragile, Lucky impulsively slung an arm around her shoulders and she leaned back against them. Continuing, Sam said, "I'm scared and I'm furious, at Jason, but mostly at myself. Because I _knew_, Lucky. I _knew_ that Jason's job was dangerous, that the people he associates with are dangerous, that _he's _even dangerous…and I ignored it. I stuck my head in the sand and I refused to acknowledge the truth." Sam looked at him, her eyes sad.

He had to say it. He couldn't _not_ say it. "Then leave."

And Sam said the words he had known she was going to say. "I can't."

"Why not?" he burst out suddenly, frustrated that yet another woman was refusing to walk away from Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos. "Jason's dangerous, Sam. Sonny's dangerous. There's no reason for you to stay—"

"Let's say I leave," Sam interrupted him firmly. "Then what? Jason comes after me again, and again, and again. I tried to run away once, Lucky. I went all the way to Costa Rica and hid out in a _convent_, for God's sake, and he _still found me_. And then he'll go to court and he'll sue for joint custody, or worse, _sole_ custody, and you know what? He'll _win_."

"No," Lucky interrupted fiercely.

Sam laughed. "Oh, come on, Lucky! Wake up. Sonny admitted to attempted murder in open court and got off anyway. He shot his wife in the head and she still went back to him. What makes you think he and Jason will be any less persuasive in court? They can afford the best lawyers, they can afford to bribe the judge, the social workers…anyone he needs to."

Lucky knew she was right. In any other town, Sam could beat Jason easily. But this wasn't any town. This was Port Charles, and Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan had always, _always_ come out on top. Who was he to say that this time it could be different? "So what now?" he asked. "Are you…going to stick your head back in the sand again?"

Sam rested his head against his shoulders. "No," she said finally. "I have no idea what I'm going to do now, but I will not ignore this."

"Good," he said, tightening his arm around her just a little bit. Sam didn't protest, in fact, she moved a tiny bit closer to him.

"I'm going to go home," Sam said in a dreamy voice. "I'm going to go back to that penthouse, and I'm going to fight with Jason so, so much. I'm good at that, you know." She looked up at him. "Wanna tag along for moral support?"

Lucky laughed. "Only if I can bring a video camera. Why don't you yell at Sonny too while you're at it?"

Sam laughed ruefully. "Oh, I already did that once tonight. Right before I left for dinner."

Lucky shook his head in amazement. "You know, you're one of the few women in this town that I know who isn't somehow…dazzled by that guy."

"Dazzled? Me?" Sam let out a derisive laugh. "Please. You know what, if you could explain to me what the hell women see in him, I would love to know."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "You're asking the wrong guy. I mean, he's beating women off with a stick, and I can't even get a date."

She stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"What, about Sonny beating the women off with a stick? Sadly, no, I'm not."

"No, about you being unable to find a date," Sam said.

Lucky was flattered by the disbelief in her face. "Sad but true," he admitted, rueful.

Her mouth fell open. "My God, there really is something in the water," she said blankly. "What the hell is wrong with the women in this town?"

He was glad the darkness hid the blushing on his cheeks. Seriously, his face had to be bright-red at this point. "Okay, Sam—"

"I mean it!" She sat up straight and started making hand gestures to illustrate her point. "Seriously, Lucky, if you and I had met before I got knocked up, I would have jumped your bones the second we met."

Lucky knew his eyes were as round as dinner plates, and he didn't care. Did she just say what he think she'd just said? "You—you would?" Oh, God, and now his voice was cracking like he was twelve again. What was this girl _doing_ to him?

Sam didn't seem to think anything of her admission. "Oh yeah."

He let a slow grin on his face appear. "Wow. Um…thank you?" She laughed in response, then sighed a little.

"I can't believe I'm laughing today."

"Yeah, neither can I," Lucky admitted.

"Why, what happened with you?" Sam asked immediately, concerned.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it." He paused. "You know…whatever happens with Jason…you're not alone in this. The Quartermaines will back you up, I'm sure of it. And…you've got me too. You can trust me, Sam."

Sam just looked at him, her face pained. "Lucky, the last guy who said that to me stashed me across the hall from a man who shoots pregnant women in the head. I trusted Jason, and look where that's gotten me. Why should I trust you?"

Lucky knew it wasn't personal. If he were in Sam's position, he'd be asking the exact same thing. "Because I know what it's like to be confused and scared and feel like there's no one in your corner. I know what it's like to pretend everything's okay, and the entire time, silently be begging for someone, _anyone_, to figure out that you're not okay and for them to actually care." He held her gaze and said softly, "Whatever happens after tonight, you've got me in your corner at least. No agendas or manipulations or selective truths to keep you around."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, and she suddenly hugged him fiercely. "God, you have no idea how much I needed someone to say that," she murmered into his shoulder brokenly.

Lucky held her gently, all too aware of how soft she was, of the perfume that was wafting all around him. How good it felt to give someone comfort, to feel needed again, instead of feeling like an afterthought.

Funny. He'd thought Sam needed him to give her comfort…and he was actually getting some in return.

Finally Sam pulled back and wiped at her tears. "I have to get back now."

"Okay," he said, his arms feeling strangely…empty.

She stood up and tilted her head slightly, staring at him for a moment. "You know," she said finally, "you look like a guy who needs to get a ton of things off his chest."

Surprised by her insight, Lucky smiled. "Yeah, probably. But don't worry. It'll keep for a while."

"How about lunch at Kelly's?" Sam asked hopefully. "Around, say, 12:30?"

"Best offer I've had in a long time."


	11. eleven: confrontations, discussions, and...

As Sam entered the limo, Max cleared his throat. "Are you all right, Ms. McCall?"

In the rearview mirror, he could see her smiling at him. Max understood why Mr. Morgan had gone for her. She was a pretty girl. "Max, it's Sam, for the millionth time. And yes, I'm fine."

She was lying, of course. He'd heard her conversation with the Quartermaines, had seen her talking with Officer Spencer. And as he glanced into the mirror, he could see her hand covering her belly protectively.

"Shh, little girl," Max heard her whisper. "Everything's going to be all right. I promise."

Max allowed himself to shake his head. Clearly, the girl hadn't been in Port Charles that long. Because in this town? Nothing stayed fine for long, especially when you were around Mr. Morgan or Mr. Corinthos.

* * *

_Jason was in the garden. He glanced around, smelling the roses that were his grandmother's pride and joy. "Grandmother?" he called out._

"_In here, darling," she replied. Jason turned a corner and smiled as he saw Lila Quartermaine playing with her great-grandaughter. "Hello, Jason." _

_His daughter looked up from the ball she was rolling back and forth across the green grass. "Daddy," she cooed happily. _

_He came over to her, and she held up her arms, clearly wanting to be picked up. As he lifted her into his arms, as always, she immediately went for the stethoscope around his neck. "Did you have fun with Great-Grandmother?" Jason asked. _

_Her light brown hair fell across her face as she nodded vigorously. Jason shifted her in his arms. "Hope she wasn't any trouble. I know how insane two year-olds can be."_

_Lila waved her hand dismissively. "She's an angel, Jason. How are things at the hospital?"_

_Jason groaned and put his daughter back down on the grass. He sat down in the chair next to Lila. "Lousy. Doug's still insisting that there needs to be a pediatric Attending in the E.R., half the nurses were out sick today, and the new med students…God, was I really that green when I was their age?"_

"_Without a doubt," she replies, smiling at him. _

"_That's what I was afraid of."_

"_And Sam? Is she still in L.A?"_

"_Yes," he said, smiling at the thought of her. "She's still scouting out new talent for L&B's. Called last night to tell us that she'd found some potential artists and, of course, that she misses us." He glanced at the newspaper lying on the ground nearby. "Hey, AJ jumped up seven points in the opinion polls!"_

"_Yes," Lila said with a smile. "He's sure to make Mayor, especially with Carly campaigning so hard for him…"_

"_Yeah, well, Carly's dead set on being the wife of the Mayor…" As Jason read on, something caught his eye. "Corinthos got arrested again?" he asked in disbelief. _

"_Apparently, they've finally got something solid on them. John Durant, that charming man—" Jason let out a snort at the thought of Carly's father being described as charming, "— and D.A. Lansing have finally caught that horrible, horrible man for good."_

_Jason opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly, the garden and the sky and his grandmother and his daughter—the entire landscape—warped and twisted, and then finally faded away._

Jason woke with a start, his eyes snapping open.

God.

That was—_beyond_ crazy. What the hell was that? Jason had dreamed about his grandmother often since—since her death, but everything else had been so out there, even for a dream…he had been a doctor, for Christ's sake. A _doctor_. And AJ was still around, and married to Carly—weird. No, not weird so much as—unsettling. Highly unsettling.

And it was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dre—

But then he remembered his daughter. A beautiful little girl with his light brown hair and her mother's dark eyes.

She'd been the most perfect, beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He got out of bed, deciding to grab a glass of water.

When he came downstairs, Jason was more than a little surprised to find Sam sitting on the couch, in the dark. He flipped on the lights and blinked hard for a few seconds, trying to let his eyes adjust. "What's going on?"

Sam looked at him, silent.

* * *

"So, what did you talk about?" Edward asked eagerly the minute Monica and Alan walked into the room. 

Monica sighed. "It went very well."

Alan snorted. "Oh, please."

"Don't tell me she's another Carly in disguise," Edward said.

"Oh, no, Sam's very nice," Alan reassured. "No, things _were_ going well…until we were forced to tell her about that whole debacle back in the winter, you know, when Sonny shot Carly in the head?"

Edward groaned. "She didn't take it well?"

Monica threw up her hands. "How do you take that kind of news well? She was understandably upset. Had to take off to try and—absorb it all."

"But you did tell her that the Quartermaines were willing to support her?" Edward pressed.

Alan looked up at that. "Father, don't you dare even think about it! No more custody battles. I already told you, I don't want it to be like it was before." His throat clenched at the memory of Sonny Corinthos waltzing into his home and blithely taking away his grandson. "If we push too hard, too fast, we'll lose them for good."

"And if we just stand back, we could lose them anyway," Edward countered, then sighed. "I—I just can't stand the thought of losing another family member."

Alan's throat clenched again. He wasn't talking about Michael or Jason or AJ. He was talking about Mother.

Mother, who would have been so thrilled to know about Jason's baby. Mother, who would have made this so easy, so smooth. Mother, who had literally been the best the Quartermaines had to offer.

In another lifetime, Jason had been that as well. _He'd_ been the best the Quartermaines had to offer.

But that had changed. Mother—Mother was dead. She was dead and as far as Jason was concerned, they were dead to him.

"We have to take this slowly," Monica insisted. "Give her time. She's not going anywhere."

Alan got up to fix himself a drink. "Monica, if you were in Sam's position, would _you_ stay?"

* * *

"Sam?" Jason was really starting to get a little bit worried now. The look on Sam's face…she was staring at him as if he were—a stranger. "What's wrong? Did something happen at dinner?" 

Sam turned her face away from him and stared straight ahead. "So, were you even going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Jason racked his brain, trying to think of something that Monica and Alan could have told her to freak her out this badly.

"About Sonny," Sam spit out.

Jason was still at a loss.

"And the bullet he put in his wife's brain."

Oh. _That_ was what they'd told her.

Fuuccck.

Damn it all, he should have _known_ this was going to happen. "Sam," he said, desperate for her to understand, "it was—"

She leapt off the couch. "You promised me that I would be safe," Sam cried, her voice filled with accusation and betrayal. "You _promised_."

"And you are!" Jason insisted. "Sam, I swear you're safe here. Sonny isn't a threat to you—"

Sam laughed hysterically at that. "In what universe is a man who put a bullet in his pregnant wife's brain not considered to be a threat?" She waved her arms around dramatically. "Oh, that's right, I forgot! I'm in Bizarro Mob World, where cops and prosecutors are the enemy and men who shoot their wives are heroes!"

He stepped towards her, more desperate than he thought possible. She backed away from him. Jason let his arms fall to his sides. "It was an accident," he said, forcing his voice to stay even.

"And his first wife? Was _that_ an accident too?"

She knew about Lily. Dear God.

Jason didn't know how to make this okay. He didn't know how to make everything right again.

Sam choked back a soft sob. "I trusted you," she whispered. She shook her head. "God, how could I be so stupid?"

Jason couldn't stop himself from wincing at that. "You still can," he quietly said.

Sam wiped away at her tears furiously. "Sonofabitch," she murmured. Jason didn't know if she was referring to him or Sonny. Probably both. "I'm not usually this naïve," she told him with a laugh, sitting back down on his couch. "But boy, were you ever good. You—you said all the right things in just the right way, at exactly the right time…" Sam waved a finger in his direction. "My dad would have been impressed."

"It wasn't like that," Jason said, his voice hoarse. "I wasn't trying to trick you." A small part of his brain marveled at all this. He hadn't realized that Sam had the power to hurt him. But she could.

"And that's the scariest part of all," Sam said, looking straight at him. "You weren't. You—you really think I'll be okay here. Living across the hall from someone like Sonny, surrounded by bodyguards. You think this is all okay."

Jason was silent, then finally asked, "What happens now?"

Sam shook her head slowly. "On the way here, I must have run through this scenario a million times in my head. My imagination always stopped here."

"Do you want to leave?"

"What, like I have a choice in the matter?"

Jason's mouth fell open. Goddamn, he hadn't thought her opinion of him was that low… "You're not a prisoner, Sam. You never were."

"See, here's the thing," Sam said, standing up and speaking in a brisk tone. "If I leave, I know there's no way you're going to give me sole custody and agree to stay away from the baby. And I know that I don't have the money to fight you in court. So, it looks like I'm staying."

That wasn't what he wanted. "It's not like that," he insisted desperately.

Sam smiled bitterly. "Sure it is, Jason. I can't fight you and Sonny, so I have to make nice. Why pretend otherwise?"

He rubbed his face with his hand. She made it sound so… "How do I make this all right?" he asked plaintively. "Tell me how to make this all right, and I'll do it, Sam. Whatever you want."

* * *

"So, what'd they talk about?" Sonny asked. 

"Lots of things," Max said casually. "Nurses' Ball—that's coming up soon, L&B Records, ELQ…" It had to be admitted, Max didn't feel so great about tattling to Sonny like this. But Sonny was the boss and he didn't have a choice.

Sonny gave him an impatient look. "Did they say anything about me? Or Michael?"

"Nothing about Michael," Max assured him. "You did come up towards the end…"

"And?" Sonny prodded.

"Um, apparently Lorenzo Alcazar has been talking to Sam, and he gave her a few hints as to what happened in the winter, you know, with Mrs. Corinthos…"

"You mean, when I shot my wife in the head and put her in a coma?"

"Yeah," Max said, relieved that Sonny had gotten to the point. "Well, she asked about it, and the Quartermaines…they told her."

"Shit," Sonny said. "Aaah, fuck it. She didn't take it well?"

"I think that would be an understatement," Max said wryly. "She took off, went to the park…ran into Officer Spencer."

"Shit," Sonny repeated darkly, frowning at the mention of Lucky.

"They talked for a while…couldn't make out what they were talking about…she said something about going home and yelling at Jason—"

Sonny mumbled something unintelligible at this point. As this was a usual occurrence, Max ignored him and continued. "Then she left and came into the limo and I drove her back here."

"She's with Jason now?"

"Yes," Max said.

* * *

"Whatever I want?" Sam repeated, sitting back down again slowly. 

"Just tell me what it is," Jason said.

Sam closed her eyes and thought. Finally, she said, "Keep me and our daughter away from Sonny Just--keep him away. I never liked him, and I like him even less now."

"All right."

"Good," Sam said, getting up and making her way to the stairs. As she was on the first step, she paused and turned around. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. What gives?"

Jason looked down at the ground. Quietly, he admitted, "I should have told you about Carly. You should have been able to come into this with your eyes open, knowing all of the risks."

Sam sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "You're not an idiot, Jason. You knew that this was something I would want to be told about."

He licked his lips nervously. "Because—I was sick of sacrificing. I was so sick of giving up people that I cared about. My grandmother had just died, Courtney and I had just gotten divorced, and there you were, in that hospital bed, and I just—I couldn't do it, Sam. I couldn't do it."

"You know, it seems like you've lost a lot of people because of all this," Sam said, waving her hand around. "Then—why stay?"

It was the question they'd been dancing around for almost two months. It was the question that Jason had been running into since he could remember.

Jason's voice shook as he said, "Because—this is all I know."

"There's more to you than this, Jason," Sam insisted, even though, sometimes, she wasn't even sure of that herself.

Jason's mouth curled into a bittersweet smile that tore at Sam's heart. "That's the thing, Sam. There really isn't."

* * *

The next morning, Sam and Jason were better than last night. 

That wasn't saying much.

Jason cooked as usual. Pancakes, with chocolate chips this time. Sam drank mango juice—her new craving—and idly flipped through _Entertainment Weekly_. They ate in silence.

While Jason washed up, refusing Sam's offer of help, Sam went to call the Quartermaines. No one answered, and eventually, the answering machine picked up. "Hey, it's me, Sam. Listen, aside from the last part, I thought dinner went rather well. And you'll be happy to know that not only have I _not _skipped town, Jason and I…well, we've come to an agreement of sorts." Sam glanced at Jason, who wasn't looking at her. "Anyway, I feel awful about the way I ran out of there, so I was hoping that maybe we could try the whole dinner thing again, and this time, with no mention of Sonny Corinthos. So call me back. Bye." She hung up and sighed. "What a mess."

"Are we going to be okay?" Jason asked quietly, not turning around.

She looked over at his back, at his tense shoulders. "I don't know."

* * *

"Lucky! Hold up a second!" 

Lucky stopped outside Kelly's, turned and saw Ric Lansing jogging towards him. "Hey, Ric, what's up?" Lucky asked. "Did something change with the Mayor?"

"I spent half the night going over everything in my head," Ric said, breathless. "Finally I decided to call Alexis and tell her everything. She is Skye's attorney, she has a right to know what she's up against."

"How'd it go?"

Ric laughed ruefully. "Well, after she finished ripping a strip off my back for not telling her sooner...she's just as confused as we are."

"Great," Lucky muttered, then groaned. "What a nightmare. Listen, I'm--I'm meeting a friend for lunch..." He glanced through the window, and saw that Sam was waiting for him at a table.

Ric followed his gaze. "_That's_ who you're meeting?"

It had to be admitted that Lucky stiffened slightly at the tone of Ric's voice. "Yeah. We're friends."

"Isn't she living with Jason?" Ric asked. "And isn't she pregnant with Jason's child too?"

"Yes to both," Lucky said tightly. At Ric's look, he burst out defensively, "We're _friends_."

"You sure about this?" Ric asked gently.

"There's nothing to be worried about," Lucky said shortly. "Sam and I are friends." Without looking back, he firmly opened the door of the diner and walked right in.

"Okay," Ric said after a moment. "This isn't going to end well."

* * *

"Hey," Sam said, smiling as Lucky slid into the seat across from her. "There you are." 

"Sorry I'm late," Lucky said. "Got held up talking to the D.A."

"Ooh, Ric Lansing?" Sam asked. "He's hot." At Lucky's look, she said defensively, "What? I'm almost five months pregnant, hormonal as hell, and I've got eyes, don't I?"

Lucky laughed. "So, how did things go last night with—"

Sam held up her hand. "Uh-uh. Today is about you and whatever's going wrong in your life."

"How do you know there's something wrong?" Lucky asked lightly.

Sam shrugged. "You always look like there's this...weight on your shoulders. But I wasn't positive until last night. So come on. Tell me."

Lucky stared at her in amazement. His own brother hadn't bothered to notice. Emily, Elizabeth, Lucas, his friends at the PCPD...they all thought he was doing just fine. Oh, sure, they'd inquire occasionally as to the progress on Skye's case, but Lucky wasn't an idiot. They didn't really want the truth, they wanted him to smile and say everything was all right. And for months, that had been exactly what he'd done.

Sam had known him for such a short amount of time in comparison...and she knew something was wrong, and she actually wanted to listen.

"Tell me," Sam said again.

And almost before he knew it, Lucky was spilling his guts out. About his mother's mental illness, his father's destructive behavior, the whole mess with Skye and Ross Duncan. The disappearance of both his parents. How his sister was growing up without a father. How alone he felt. How it seemed as though he kept having to give everything to other people, support, love, comfort—so much so that there was nothing left of him.

Five minutes into his spiel, Sam took his hand.

She didn't let go.

Mike served them coffee, but Lucky didn't notice. He wasn't Catholic, but he finally got the whole idea behind confession and why so many people would feel the urge to spill everything to someone. Except he didn't have a tiny room and a screen, just Sam's luminous dark eyes fixed on his face and her small, perfect hand in his.

Finally, when his voice got hoarse, his throat scratchy—finally he finished. "Wow," he said. "I didn't mean to go on that long…"

Sam looked a little stunned. "Damn. And to think I was whining all the time about my messed-up life, and here you are, with all _this_--"

"I'm doing okay," Lucky muttered.

Sam snorted. "Hello, you're speaking to a former con-artist here. You think I can't spot a lie at fifty paces? You're not okay."

"Neither are you," he pointed out.

She laughed mirthlessly at that. "No, you're right about that." She paused. "Think we'll make it?"

Lucky grinned at her. "Hey, I'm a Spencer, and I'm sure you've seen worse than this. We'll be fine."

To his relief, she grinned back. "Yeah. We'll be just fine."

And at that moment, both of them believed it.

* * *

"I want you to talk to Meyer about the shipping contracts..." Sonny trailed off. "Jason, you with me here?" 

"Yeah," Jason said, jerking out of his reverie. "Yeah, I'm with you."

Sonny looked at him. "What's going on?" When Jason didn't reply, Sonny said, "It's about Sam. Right?"

"Yeah," Jason admitted. "Yeah, she found out about what happened with you and Carly and Alcazar...it upset her."

"But she's still staying?"

"Yeah," Jason said bitterly. The distrust in Sam's face, in her words...it had left a bad taste in Jason's mouth that he couldn't get rid of.

Sonny didn't pick up on Jason's bad mood, or he just chose to ignore it. "Well, that's good."

"She's staying, but only because she doesn't think she has a choice. She thinks that if she leaves, I'm just going to try and take the baby away," Jason elaborated. He threw up his hands. "I have no idea how to fix this, Sonny. I mean, she was starting to settle in, we were getting along great..."

"You care about her, don't you?" Sonny asked.

"Yeah. I do," Jason admitted. Sam was frustrating, annoying as hell sometimes--but she was also funny. It wasn't so bad living with her. And if he was honest, he had to admit he enjoyed having her there, puttering around in the apartment. Knowing there would be someone who would be there when he got home.

Sonny held out his arms. "Hey, if you want me to talk to her for you--"

"No," Jason said hastily. "Sonny--Sam didn't like you _before _she found out what you did, and now--" he shook his head. "In fact, I think it's a good idea if you just keep your distance from Sam from now on."

Sonny's eyebrows rose up. "Jason, I'm not a threat--"

Jason cut him off. "I know that, but Sam doesn't see it that way, and I don't want her to be any more stressed out than she already is. Please, Sonny, I'm asking you, as a favor, to leave it alone."

Sonny didn't look at all happy, but he pressed his lips together and nodded tightly. "All right."

"Thanks."

* * *

"Hey, Coleman," Sam said softly. After saying goodbye to Lucky at Kelly's, she had wandered around town and eventually ended up at Jake's. Well, she was outside Jake's, really. 

Coleman stopped dead in his tracks. A slow, slow smile appeared on his face. "Well, hello there, baby-doll. Long time, no see."

"Yeah," Sam admitted awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. Coleman had been the first person to help her out, had given her a safe place to stay when she had needed it the most. She should have talked to him more since she'd returned. "Sorry, I've been really busy, settling in..."

"Don't worry about it," Coleman shrugs, and seemed to remember that he had a garbage bag in his hand. He effortlessly threw it in the Dumpster and turned to her, grinning. "So, what is it this time?"

Sam tilted her head. "Why didn't you tell me about Carly?"

Coleman's grin faded slightly, but he said, "Well, there are a lot of things I could tell you 'bout Carly Corinthos. Besides, you didn't ask."

Sam wouldn't let up. "Why didn't you tell me that her husband shot her in the head when she was giving birth?"

Now the grin was completely gone. "Well, I figured there wasn't much point. I'd already told you about the first wife, and if that didn't knock sense into you, nothing would." He paused. "How long ago did you find out?"

"Last night," Sam admitted.

He held out his arms wide. "And you're still here, which proves my point. Why'd you stay?"

"I can't beat him in court," Sam insisted.

Coleman laughed...and called her bluff. "Liar. Fact of the matter is, baby-doll, there isn't a judge in the country that wouldn't give you custody...especially if you had the Quartermaines backing you up. No, that's not the reason why you're staying."

Sam was speechless. Finally, she admitted, "You're right. That--that's not the entire reason why I'm staying. The truth is," she swallowed, then went on, "the truth is...I like it here. Back--before I got pregnant, I lived out of a suitcase. I used so many aliases that I've lost track of all of them. I didn't have any friends, all I had were contacts that I could use to get information. I told myself it was all right, that I didn't mind being alone...but the truth is, I was miserable. But now...now I can settle in. I can...put down roots without wondering how long it'll be before I have to leave."

"So, you're not in love with Jason Morgan then?" Coleman asked.

"No," Sam said, then reconsidered. "But...I still like living with him. There's...finally someone who's going to worry if I don't come home on time. It's--nice, having someone around who cares." She looked at him pleadingly. "Is it so bad to want that?"

Coleman's face softened. "No, it's not. Just--be careful, all right? Corinthos and Morgan...they--don't really have a great track record when it comes to relationships, if you catch my drift."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, no kidding."

"No, I mean that," Coleman said seriously. "Watch out for yourself...and your baby."

"I will," she promised. "Thanks, Coleman."

"Anytime, doll."

Sam gave him a mock-glare. "I'm not a doll," she said, then grinned at him.

Coleman grinned back.

* * *

When Jason and Michael entered the apartment, Sam was on the couch, talking on the telephone. She waved at them. "Hey, Monica, this is Sam," she said with a laugh. "Seems like we just keep missing each other. Anyway, I got your message and I would love to have dinner with you. Monday at 7:00 sounds great and I'll see you then. Bye." She hung up. "Hey, there. What are you guys up to?" 

"We're going to the carnival," Michael said in excitement.

"There's a carnival being held in a nearby town," Jason explained. "Sonny can't take him, he's busy with work, and Carly's still in Manhattan, so I said I'd do it."

"Do you want to come with us?" Michael offered.

Sam hesitated, then to Jason's surprise, said, "Sure, why not?"

* * *

Sam and Jason sat down on the bench and waited for Michael to get off the roller-coaster. Sam was eating pink cotton candy. 

"We still need to talk more," Jason said softly.

Around a mouthful of pink fluff, Sam said, "Jason, we've said all we need to say. I don't want to argue any more."

Jason had to think for a moment about what he wanted to say, and how it needed to come out. He wasn't good at this. Communicating—words—all of it. He spoke when he needed to, didn't when it wasn't necessary.

But now--_this_ was necessary. Jason wanted Sam to stay, but not for the wrong reasons. He wanted her to stay because _she_ wanted to stay. Not because she thought she'd been backed into a corner. "Look, I know you don't feel safe in the penthouse, and that's not what I want. It's not good for you or the baby to be stressed out all the time."

"Obviously," Sam said in a clipped voice. "But what are we going to do about it?"

Jason took a deep breath.

It wouldn't be easy. Sonny would hate it. Carly would throw a fit. The Quartermaines would see it as a reason to hope again.

But it needed to be done. Jason needed to do it, and what was more, he _wanted_ to do it. He was sick of sacrificing everything for this life. Sonny got to have it all, why did Jason always have to be the one who had to constantly give everything up?

"We could move out," Jason said evenly.

Sam stared at him, not understanding. "What?"

"We could move," he said, uncomfortable under her searching gaze. "You don't feel comfortable living across the hall from Sonny--"

"I don't feel comfortable being in the same _building_ as Sonny," Sam said flatly, "but--you're really willing to move? For me?"

"Yes."

A stunned, disbelieving smile was starting to spread across her face. "Really? You—you mean it?"

Jason started to relax. If she was smiling, then maybe this could work out. "Yeah. I mean it."

"You'd...uproot everything, just like that?"

He shrugged. "Well, you uprooted your entire life for this baby because I told you that that would be best. Seems like it's only fair if I do the same."

In a sudden movement, Sam hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Jason smiled into her hair. "So, you like the idea then."

"Like it?" Sam released him. "Are you kidding me, I love it! Have you found a place yet? Should we get an apartment or a house? How long do you think it'll take?"

Jason laughed. "Uh, let's see. I haven't found a place yet, and I think we should just go for the house, and no, I don't know how long it'll take."

"You can do that?" Sam asked. "You can...leave, you can move out?"

Jason laughed softly. "Sam, Sonny doesn't run my life."

"Could've fooled me," she muttered.

He gave her a look. "Seriously, Sam, it'll be fine." But despite his words, Jason knew Sonny wouldn't like it at all. And Carly...oh God, Carly would throw a major fit. All things considered though, Carly was overdue for a fit, so maybe it was good to get it over with.

But Sonny wouldn't like it.

But at this point, working things out with Sam was more important.

At that moment, Michael showed up. "Oh, man that was awesome!" he said happily. "There was this guy in the back that threw up once, and there were so many loops that I thought I'd throw up too..."

And as Jason listened to Michael's story, he looked over once and saw Sam smiling at him. In that moment, he believed that everything was all right again.

* * *

When Lucky walked into Kelly's with Elizabeth, Emily and Nikolas, he saw Sonny Corinthos talking to Mike behind the counter. Giving Sonny a look, he just decided to ignore him. 

"We were thinking of red for the bridesmaids's dresses," Emily was saying. "Dark red…that'll look so great on you Elizabeth…"

"Hey, are you changing your last name to Cassadine?" Elizabeth asked.

As the girls talked and Nikolas occasionally cut in with the wry or sarcastic comment, Lucky let his mind drift. Lately, he hadn't let himself do that…because eventually it would get back to his mom and dad and just where they were…or how Skye was doing in Pentonville…

But God, was he ever bored. Weddings weren't really his thing. He was thrilled that Emily and Nikolas were going to be happy, but the constant discussion over invitations and seating arraignments were driving him crazy.

Idly, he wondered how Sam was doing. She'd seemed to be okay the last time he'd seen her…she'd smiled at him, listened to him…Sam had seemed happier than the night in the park, which must have meant she'd worked things out with Jason.

Jason. If Lucky was perfectly honest with himself, he would admit that he'd never really liked Emily's brother. Especially not when Jason and Elizabeth had had—whatever they'd had. But even after that was over, Lucky still hadn't liked Jason. He could just put it down to the mob-cop thing…but that wasn't precisely it.

To be blunt, Jason gave him the creeps. The way he constantly skulked around…how he never talked unless it was absolutely necessary…those dead eyes.

Jason creeped Lucky out, and he just couldn't picture someone like Sam with Jason. He just couldn't see it. Sam had a good sense of humor, she wasn't—she wasn't like Carly. Lucky couldn't see her being happy in that life, not in the long run.

And boy, was this ever inappropriate. What the hell was he thinking? Lucky had known Sam for such a short time, sure, they'd had some intense conversations, and yes, they did get along pretty well, and sure she was gorgeous, but—

Hold up.

Where had _that_ come from?

Okay, okay, there was no reason to panic. Lucky had always known that Sam was attractive. He had eyes, after all, and he'd have to be a blind idiot not to notice. In a clinical way. In a strictly clinical, platonic way.

But….if it _wasn't_ strictly clinical and platonic…then…then he was totally screwed.

Lucky groaned and let his head drop onto the table with a dull thud.

"Lucky?" Nikolas asked. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to knock some sense into my head," Lucky muttered.

"Spencer." Lucky groaned again. It was Sonny. Shit.

Lucky lifted his head and met Sonny's expressionless black eyes. "What is it, Sonny?"

"If you're trying to use Sam for information against me or Jason—"

"Here we go again," Lucky groaned. "Look, I'm not using Sam for information at all—"

"You know, it's funny," Sonny said musingly, ignoring Lucky's protests, "One dinner with the Quartermaines and a little talk with you in the park, and bam! Sam's ready to run."

Lucky bristled at this. "Hold up. The reason Sam's so afraid isn't because of me or the Quartermaines, it's because of _you_. Look, you may have succeeded in isolating Carly from everyone that you don't approve of, but that won't work with Sam. And if you and Jason don't get that through your thick skulls, things'll just get worse." At this point, he stood up and stared Sonny down. "Any more questions?"

"Ooookay," Emily said slowly. "Maybe we should all just take a step back here—"

"I used to be, you know, pretty good friends with your dad," Sonny said slowly. "But that won't protect you."

"Good, we're in agreement then," Lucky said briskly. "Because you may have been friends with my dad, but that's not going to stop me from throwing you in jail one day either."

Mike quickly came up to them. "All right, I'd like to avoid bloodshed today, if that's all right with everyone here."

Sonny gave Lucky one last glare and then walked away.

"Wow," Elizabeth said. "What was that all about?"

Lucky cast one last glare at Sonny's retreating back, then sat back down. "Nothing. Sonny was just—being an ass."

"Who's Sam?" Elizabeth asked next.

"A friend," Lucky said shortly. "Can…we just drop this, please?"

His friends shared a look, but thankfully, Emily changed the subject and went back to discussing the wedding.

But this time, Lucky didn't dare let himself drift off into a reverie.


	12. twelve: part one of the dinner

_Author's note: I know, it's been a while, but I have an excuse. My first version, which I was almost finished with, got corrupted and I couldn't access it. Then I wrote another version, which is also now lost, along with a bunch of other stories. So. I'm going back to the beginning, where I wrote shorter chapters, but with faster updates. The next few chapters will occur all on the same day. Also, if anyone knows of any important things I should know about the Quartermaines, don't be afraid to let me know. It'd be a major help if you could point me towards any video clips or transcripts too._

"You sure you're going to be all right?" Ned asked for the millionth time at L&B. "I mean, the Quartermaines are a handful on a good day and-"

Sam looked up from the paperwork. "Come on, Ned, how bad can it be?"

Ned and Dillon shared a look at this. If Sam was asking questions like that, there was no way she was ready for the clan. "Oh, boy," Dillon muttered. "Sam, I don't think you understand-"

Sam looked up again and sighed. "Dillon, I live next door to Sonny and Carly Corinthos. I've drifted all over the country working as a con artist, and I've seen practically everything there is to see. Now, given the life I've led and the neighbors I've got, are you honestly telling me to be worried about a little _yelling_?"

She had a point. Still, Ned countered, "There's no 'little' about it, Sam, we make it into an Olympic sport-"

Sam started putting the files away. "Fine by me," she said breezily. "I could do with a few family feuds. They liven things up."

Dillon blinked. "Wow. You might actually fit in after all."

* * *

Jason wasn't afraid of a lot. He wasn't afraid of dying, of being hurt, of the police, of the D.A...Jason snorted at the thought of being afraid of Ric Lansing. And he wasn't afraid of Sonny.

That still didn't mean he wanted to go in there and tell Sonny what he and Sam were planning to do. Because Jason knew Sonny, and he knew Carly, and he knew they wouldn't be happy with this.

And at that thought, Jason's back stiffened slightly. What the hell did they have to be upset about? It wasn't like Jason was leaving town, or quitting the mob. He was just moving out of the penthouse.

He remembered the look on Sam's face when he'd suggested it, the look of...incredulous relief. He hadn't seen her that relaxed, that happy and relieved in a while...it meant a lot to her, leaving this place, starting fresh. And if Jason was honest with himself—and there was no reason not to be-he was kind of looking forward to a clean start himself. There was too much history in that building, too many ties to different women—Jason was realizing more and more that if he really wanted to make this work, start a family with Sam and their baby, it couldn't happen here.

Standing nearby, Max cleared his throat. "You going in?" he asked respectfully.

"Yeah," Jason said slowly. "Yeah, I am."

He turned the doorknob and went in.

* * *

"Well...somebody told me...you had a boyfriend who looked like a girlfriend...that I had in February of last year...it's not confidential...I've got potential..."

Sam sang along tunelessly to the song with Georgie, then stopped after the chorus. "I'm hungry."

Georgie just nodded, used to Sam's sudden cravings by this point. "Want mango juice? We've got some in stock in the mini fridge."

"No..." Sam mused.

"Chocolate?"

"No."

"Chocolate-covered octopus?"

Sam frowned at her. "It was just that one time…" she pouted.

"It was still disgusting," Georgie said with a shudder. "Well, if you don't want mango juice, or chocolate, or octopus—then what do you want to eat?"

"Chili," Sam decided. "I want chili."

"Aren't you going to spoil your appetite?" Georgie wondered. "You are going to dinner in a few hours—"

Sam snorted. "Please, I'm pregnant. I could spend half the day at a buffet and still have room left over."

* * *

Sonny was staring at Jason as though he had started speaking Sanskrit. "You want to _move_?" he echoed. "Move _where_?"

Jason kept his cool. "We're staying in Port Charles…you know, get a house—"

"The hell for?" Sonny demanded. "That apartment's your home, what do you need to move for?"

"I told you, Sonny, Sam doesn't feel safe here—"

"So let _her_ move!" Sonny yelled, clearly at the end of his rope. "Set her up somewhere, and when the baby's born, you know, you can move for sole custody, problem solved—"

Jason's mouth almost fell open. "That is _not_ going to happen," he said heatedly. "And if you think I'm taking my daughter away from her mother, you're out of your goddamned _mind_—"

Carly came down the stairs, dressed in a turquoise kimono. "Hey, what's going on?"

Jason almost groaned, but restrained himself. Carly. Shit. His plan—not that he'd really had one—consisted of tackling Sonny first, then facing Carly. Facing Sonny and Carly at the same time had not been in Jason's plan.

"Carly," he said, keeping his voice calm and casual with an effort. "You're back already?"

"Yeah, I got in late last night," Carly said slowly, looking from him to Sonny. "What's going on?" she repeated again, wary.

Before Jason could answer, Sonny said shortly, "Jason's moving out."

Carly's jaw dropped. "_What_? Why?"

"Look, Carly—" Jason started, but again, Sonny answered for him.

"Because Sam told him to." Even though Sonny had hardly listened at all to what Jason had to say, he'd seemed to have already formed his own opinion of how this had occurred.

Carly now looked furious. "That little—"

"Okay," Jason said loudly, cutting in, "that is _not_ what happened—if you would just listen—"

"Who the hell does she think she is?" Carly raged. "I know you want to make this work, Jason, but come on, she's just mooching off of you and probably using the baby as a bargaining chip—"

A part of Jason snidely thought that Carly was one to talk, given the way she'd used Michael as a meal ticket in the past, then pushed the thought down in shock. What the hell was going on with him? He'd never thought like that before…or maybe hadn't _allowed_ himself to think like that before…

"She is not mooching off of me," Jason said as evenly as he could, given the way his anger was starting to coil up in his stomach. "She's got a job, unlike you," he added, unable to help himself.

Carly's mouth fell open again, and Jason thought idly that it wasn't really a good look for her. "Hey, I run the Cellar—" she protested.

Sonny decided to put his two cents in. "Look, Jason, if you want me to talk to Sam for you, set things straight—"

Jason's eyes widened. "No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not."

Back after the coma, Jason had been prone to violent outbursts. They'd come without warning. The angry coil in his chest would just get tighter and tighter until finally it let loose and wreaked havoc.

Jason still had a temper, but he hadn't lost it like that in a long time…

"For the last time, Jason, there's no need for you to move—"

And with that simple sentence, Jason let loose.

"Of course I have to move!" he exploded. "How the hell am I supposed to start a family, living across the hall from the two of you?"

Finally—_finally_—he'd gotten them to shut up. Sonny and Carly stared at him, stunned. But Jason wasn't finished.

"Come on, Sonny, since you've got all the answers, tell me how I'm supposed to manage," Jason said, a bitter sarcasm twisting his mouth and tainting his words. "Tell me how I'm supposed to take care of my family with you and Carly coming over all the time with your constant demands."

"Jason," Carly protested, "that's not true—we don't—"

He laughed bitterly, and he saw Carly flinch slightly at the sound. "Give me a break Carly, you do it all the time. I'm the one who gets shot for you, who gets arrested the most, I'm the one who has to fix your screwed-up lives, I'm the one who has to explain things to Michael when the two of you don't feel like being parents." He stared at both of them, and was glad that neither of them could deny the truth that he was spewing. "And you know what? I'm sick of it. You hear me? The two of you just—just came in and _invaded_ my life—and I'm done. Do you hear me? I'm _done_."

He stalked towards the door, then turned. "I don't care if you like Sam. I don't even care if you approve of what I'm doing, or if you hate it. But shut up about it already. It's happening whether you like it or not, so back the hell off."

He walked out, closing the door none too gently. In fact, he slammed it.

Jason hadn't lost his temper like that in a long time. Such a long time, in fact, that he'd forgotten…what a relief it felt.

* * *

"So, are you going to ask Lauren out or not?" Murphy asked.

Lucky barely repressed the urge to groan. They were back on his partner's favorite subject: Lucky's love life. Or to be more accurate, Lucky's lack of a love life. "I'm not asking Lauren out," he said wearily, referring to Mac Scorpio's curvy assistant.

Murphy looked disappointed, but not that surprised. "Oh, man, why _not_? There isn't a guy in the force who wouldn't kill to go out with that girl, and for some bizarre reason, she seems to want you."

"Murphy, it's not happening," Lucky said as firmly as he could. "Let it go."

Murphy, of course, didn't listen. When did he ever? "Look, man, I've got to tell you, some of the guys are starting to wonder if you're, you know, playing for the other team—"

If Lucky were taking a sip of his coffee, he would have choked and spit it out all over the table. "What the hell? Murphy, I'm not gay—not that there's anything wrong with that—but for the record, I'm not!"

Murphy held up his hands. "Hey, man, people wonder. I mean, you're a decent guy, with a respectable job, and you're good-looking, or so the ladies tell me—and you haven't been out on a date in forever. What's going on?"

"None of your damn business," Lucky muttered, casting a look around to make sure Lulu was still at the jukebox. She was. Good. If she heard this, she'd never let up about it.

"Hey, I'm your partner and your friend, man, of course it's my business," Murphy insisted. "I'm just looking out for you."

Lucky knew that. He even appreciated it, sort of. Didn't mean that he wasn't annoyed by it. Really annoyed. "Look, can we just drop it?"

"No, we can't just drop it," Murphy insisted. "Look, why won't you go out with Lauren? She's hot, she's got fantastic legs, and I have a pretty good feeling you haven't been laid since the last millennium, and my friend, that is just _sad_."

Lucky was drinking on his coffee that time, and he did end up choking. At least he didn't spit it out all over the table. "Jesus, Murphy! My little sister's right over there—can you at least whisper?"

Murphy rolled his eyes. "Come on, man, she's way over on the other side of the diner!"

Lucky sighed. "All right. Lauren is—very attractive. And yeah, I haven't been on a date in a while. But come on, man—there's got to be some chemistry there, right? And there isn't with Lauren, and I can't manufacture it just to make you happy and to prove my heterosexuality to the other guys."

Murphy looks resigned. "All right, all right," he said, giving in. "But do yourself a favor, and find a girl that you've got chemistry with already."

Lucky grinned, waving a hand. "Yeah, yeah."

Later, Lucky would tell himself that it was just a coincidence that Sam walked in at that precise moment.

She looked good. Well, she always looked good. But today her hair was down and it was shiny and all over the place, and she was—smiling. At him.

"Who's that?" Murphy murmured.

Lucky motioned Sam over. "Hey, Sam, what are you doing here?"

Sam smiled again. "Just here to get some chili."

Lucky nodded, understanding immediately. "Nobody loves the chili here like pregnant women."

"Well, this pregnant woman would have it delivered to her place by the truckload, if it were possible," Sam laughed, and looked at Murphy.

Lucky made the introductions. "Sam, this is James Murphy, my partner. Murphy, this is Sam McCall."

"Hello," Sam said politely, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Murphy said, giving her the once-over. Lucky spotted the glint of amusement in Sam's eyes as she observed Murphy observing her. Murphy didn't notice, however, and stood up. "See you around, Lucky. And think about what I said, all right?"

As Murphy walked out, Sam sat down in the chair he had occupied. "What was that?" she asked curiously.

"Oh," Lucky said without thinking, "just Murphy obsessing over my lack of a love life." He heard the words and could have kicked himself. What was he thinking, talking about this in front of her—

Wait. Why was it such a big deal anyway?

Lucky ignored his malfunctioning brain and focused. Sam was muttering, "I can't blame him. How on earth a guy like you could still be single is beyond me—"

"Oh, God, not you too—" Lucky groaned.

"Hey, it doesn't make sense!" Sam insisted.

Just then, Lulu came up to them. "Lucky, can we go to the movie store after this?"

"Sure," Lucky said.

"And get junk food?"

Lucky raised his eyebrows, but sighed and said, "Okay, as long as you brush your teeth afterwards. Grandma and Aunt Bobbie'll kill you if you get a cavity."

"Haven't gotten one yet," Lulu said smugly, and ran off back to her friends. Lucky shot a glare at the freckled kid who seemed a little _too_ happy to see Lulu. He'd have to talk to Bobbie and his grandmother later, see if that kid was hanging around a lot.

Lucky turned back to Sam to find her staring at him speculatively. "I don't get it," she declared.

"Get what?"

"You," she said simply. "You're fun to be around, good with kids, you have a job, have absolutely _no_ physical flaws that I can see—"

Lucky knew he was turning pink. Dammit.

"I'm serious, Lucky, you could have any girl you want," Sam was saying. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled up into a slow, dangerous, Cheshire-cat smile.

Lucky didn't know whether to be turned on by that smile or terrified.

"Stand up."

"Ex-excuse me?" The stammering might have been from the look in Sam's eyes, or the way her voice had dropped—and what was he, fifteen? Jesus Christ.

"Stand up," Sam said, her voice now brisk and businesslike. "Come on."

And because his brain had turned to mush, Lucky complied and got out of his chair, despite the fact that they were in Kelly's and that there were people probably watching—oh, who was he kidding? This was Port Charles, for Christ's sake. There were shootouts and resurrections on a regular basis.

Sam's eyes flicked up and down his body. "Uh-huh. Turn around."

He choked. This could not be happening. Sam was—was _ogling_ him. "Say what?"

Her Cheshire-cat grin only intensified, and so did the turned on/terrified feeling. "Turn around," she repeated. "Slowly."

Unable to believe she was asking this, and even more unable to believe he was actually complying, Lucky did as she asked and turned around slowly. When he was finally facing her again, he knew that his cheeks were bright red. "Well?" he asked, embarrassed.

Sam grinned. "Lucky, you'll be happy to know there's nothing wrong with you from a physical standpoint."

"Glad to hear it," he said sarcastically as he flopped back down in his chair. Thank God Lulu was still occupied with her friends, otherwise she'd never let him hear the end of it. And if Bobbie had been here…oy.

"Of course," Sam said musingly, "in order to be completely sure, I'd have to…"

Lucky's eyes widened. No way. She wouldn't. Oh, who was he kidding, of course she would! Lucky had no idea if this was because of the pregnancy hormones or if it was just Sam's personality, but she definitely would—

"But then, Jason wouldn't probably approve," she finished, her voice tinged with regret. "Too bad."

"If you're done humiliating me—" Lucky said through gritted teeth, although he had to admit, he'd had worse days.

"Oh, no, I'm not finished yet," Sam said breezily, and turned to a nearby table where two women were sitting. "Excuse me?" she said sweetly.

The women turned towards her. "Yes?" a brunette with glasses asked.

"Are either of you lesbians?" Sam asked innocently.

"No, but why would you—"

"Are you married or significantly involved with someone?"

At this point, Lucky's jaw was hanging open. And to think he'd thought his dad could be a handful. Yeesh.

"Is this a survey?" the brunette demanded, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Would you go out with him?" Sam finished, pointing at Lucky, who immediately sunk into his chair and wished fervently the floor would swallow him up.

The brunette looked him over, much the same way Sam had done. "In a heartbeat," she said without hesitation.

Her friend, a strawberry blonde with freckles and a button nose, nudged her friend fiercely. "Are you crazy? You don't even know the guy!"

The brunette snorted. "Please. _Look_ at him. That is all I need to know."

Lucky could have died. Sam beamed at him. "See?"

"And just for the record," the brunette said throatily, leaning towards him, "I am definitely available."

Right before Lucky put his face in his hands, he saw Mike give him a thumbs-up from behind the counter.

* * *

Sam had a couple of hours to kill until the dinner at the mansion, so when Lucky had asked if she'd wanted to come along with him and his sister to the video store, she'd decided to go.

"Okay, no PG-13 flicks," Lucky declared the moment they stepped in.

"Come on, Lucky," his sister whined. "Please?"

Lucky remained firm, despite the lethal dose of puppy-dog eyes Lulu was shooting his way. "Not a chance, Lu."

"Oh, come on, Lucky," Sam said casually. "She's 10, how bad can it be?"

"Thanks a lot, Sam," Lucky muttered. "No way. Go pick out something nice and tame to Grandma and Aunt Bobbie don't eviscerate me later."

Lulu rolled her eyes, disappointed, and took off. Sam smiled. "You really are good with her, you know."

"I try to fill in as much as I can, you know," Lucky explained. "What with my dad constantly being missing in action for one reason or another, and my mom being…well, the way she is."

In a flash, Sam saw the reason she'd been so drawn to Lucky Spencer from the beginning. It was because he was just as lonely as she'd been. Which made no sense because he was surrounded by family and friends—but there it was. He was lonely. And—tired, although she couldn't say why.

"Sorry about what happened back at the diner," she said awkwardly. "It's just—I get these ideas in my head, and I act on them without thinking and end up putting my mouth in my foot, and I didn't even realize how completely embarrassing that must have been for you—"

"Sam," Lucky said gently. "Breathe, before you faint and I have to give you mouth to mouth."

Sam laughed. "Sorry. But you know what I mean, right?"

Lucky grinned. "Yeah, I know. And it's not a big deal, really. You were just trying to give me a push. Granted, it was more like a big shove—right over a cliff—"

Sam punched him in the shoulder. "Thanks!" she said, laughing.

"Your intentions were good," Lucky said, then squinted at her playfully. "I think…"

"I plead the Fifth," Sam said loftily, and he laughed again.

"All right, let's see what's here…hey, _Gladiator_!"

"Oh, God, Russell Crowe is gorgeous in that one—" At his look, Sam said defensively, "Pregnant. Hormones. Do I have to keep covering this with you?"

"Oh, is that why you were ogling me in Kelly's?" Lucky asked innocently, and was rewarded with another punch to the arm.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sam mock-growled.

He grinned cockily. "Don't need to. You do it enough for me." Lucky got out of the way of her punch just in time. "Now," he said thoughtfully, "what was it again? Oh, let's see…I'm good-looking, funny, charming, great with kids—"

Laughing, Sam clapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh my God, I've created a monster! Watch out, before your ego starts to rival Sonny's."

"That's impossible," Lucky stated with certainty. "Nobody has an ego as big as Sonny's. Why do you think he owned those huge apartment buildings? They were the only place big enough for him and his ego."

Sam laughed even harder at that, and a nearby patron glared at her. "Do you _mind_?" he hissed prissily. "I'm trying to make a selection here."

Sam and Lucky looked at each other, then lost it and started giggling madly.

* * *

"Worried about the dinner tonight?" Lucky asked casually as they waited in line at the counter.

"No," Sam said. "I mean, everyone keeps telling me how insane the Quartermaines are, but my life's gotten so crazy since I moved here I can't help thinking things can't get any worse."

Lucky smiled. "I'll be the first to admit the Quartermaine dynamics are—unusual, but I think you'll do just fine. You've got nothing to worry about."

Sam grinned, believing him. Then she glanced at her watch. "Oh, crap, I can't believe how long we stayed here—"

"My sister's picky."

"Yeah, but I wanted to get in some baby shopping before the dinner. Hey, give me your number and I'll give you the lowdown on the dinner."

It was the first time in ages a woman had asked for Lucky's phone number. (And no, the prostitutes they would bust at the PCPD did not count.)

And as he scrawled his number on Sam's palm, Lucky told himself fiercely that he wouldn't wait around for her call. He had other things to do, like spend time with his all-too neglected sister.

He told himself this, knowing all the time it would be a lie.

* * *

"We're here," Max said. "You can leave the bags in the limo if that's what you want."

Through the tinted glass, Sam stared. The Quartermaine mansion was, for a lack of a better word, _huge_. Sam had known these people had money, and Jason's penthouse was nothing to scoff at either, but still—damn.

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. Her lower back hurt, her feet were killing her, despite the comfortable flats she wore, and the baby inside of her was kicking as though she was in a soccer match with Mia Hamm.

But she was going to be fine. She was going to be fine, because from what she'd heard Dillon and Ned whispering about earlier today, the Quartermaines were apparently worried about impressing her.

Sam grinned. The most influential family in Port Charles, worried about impressing a nobody like her.

Her father would have never believed it.

Her confidence back, Sam stepped out of the limo and made her way to the front door.

* * *

"If you'll just come this way, miss," the maid said, but Sam held up a hand. She could hear—yelling. Arguing.

Ooh, they were fighting already? "What's that?" she asked.

The maid's eyes widened. "Um, I don't hear anything?"

Clearly, the woman had her orders, but Sam wasn't prone to imagining voices. "They're fighting already, aren't they?" Sam asked, not bothering to curb the delight in her voice. Holy crap. Finally, she had a chance to witness a legendary Quartermaine fight. Well, techinically, she'd already seen one before, back at the benefit months before, but that didn't really count, since she'd stopped it before they'd really got going.

This time, she was determined to get a good look. Ignoring the maid's protests, Sam opened the door and quickly slipped into the study where everyone was gathered. Staying in a dark corner of the room, Sam remained unnoticed by everyone and could observe to her heart's content.

"I will not have the company I _built_ become overrun by—_mobsters_!" Edward Quartermaine thundered.

An older woman Sam recognized as Ned and Dillon's mother, Tracy Quartermaine, was sitting on the couch. She merely rolled her eyes. "Oh, give it a rest, Daddy," she said. "He's a member of the board, and there's nothing you can do about it, so let it go!"

"_Let it go_?" Ned repeated, clearly incredulous. "You bring _Lorenzo Alcazar_ into the fold of ELQ—Mother, have you lost your mind?"

Monica snorted. "Ned, do you even need to ask that question at this point?"

"Tracy, really, what were you thinking?" Alan demanded.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Ned burst out. "Jesus, first Lois, now you, what next?"

"You know, he's really not so bad," Dillon put in.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Says the teenager who used to work for him! My God, what am I going to tell the shareholders?"

"Please, this is Port Charles," Tracy said, waving her hand dismissively. "They're used to it. And if they're not, they should be."

"We'll have to wear Kevlar vests to the board meetings!" Alan declared, throwing up his hands. "Walk around with bodyguards…Good Lord, we'll need to put the Bomb Squad on speed dial!"

"We're already connected to the mob, Alan, in case you hadn't noticed!" Tracy burst out, finally starting to sound irritated. "Or had you forgotten the little matter of that robot son of yours—"

"Okay, Jason is not a robot—" Emily cut in.

"Really? Could've fooled me—"

"This is not about Jason!" Monica interrupted loudly. "This is about you, and your insanity in bring Lorenzo Alcazar, the South American _drug lord_, into ELQ!"

"Am I the only one here with a head for business?" Tracy asked of no one in particular. "The company is floundering, and we need his help—or would you rather have gone to Sonny Corinthos?"

"I'd have rather not gone to either one of them," Edward said shortly, "and if you had only consulted me in this matter—"

"Oh, get over yourself!" Tracy burst out.

"It's absolute madness—"

Tracy laughed. "Madness? Please? Unlike _some_ members in this family, I never tried to kill my spouse by dropping a roof on their head!"

Sam's jaw dropped. Say _what_?

"You want to go there, Tracy?" Monica asked dangerously. "I swear to God, if you don't quit it right now, I'll—"

"You'll what?" Tracy sneered. "Give me a lobotomy?"

As the fight went on, Sam laughed quietly to herself. Ned and Dillon hadn't been joking. This was what the Quartermaines were like. Loud and dysfunctional and insane—and Sam was loving every minute of it. Because as insane as the Quartermaines were—and they were really insane—Sam wasn't afraid of them. They didn't freak her out the way Sonny Corinthos did.

Sonny, with his dark, cold eyes, and his penthouse that was always a few degrees too cold. The way he and Carly walked around, like some vital lifeforce inside of them had been leeched out, little by little, until they'd been turned into empty shells.

For all their faults, the Quartermaines weren't like that. You could tell, just by looking at them, that these were people that had lived. That laughed and argued and cried and fought—a lot—and loved and _lived_. Really, truly _lived_.

If Sam had ever been nervous or apprehensive—which she hadn't been—it would have ended right here.

There was nothing to be afraid of. Jason had been wrong, Sonny had been wrong, Ned and Dillon's constant warnings had been all for nothing, and Sam was so relieved that she'd trusted her instincts on this one.

Deciding this was as good a time as ever to make her presence known, Sam cleared her throat.

They didn't hear her. Considering the noise level everyone's voices were now operating at, that wasn't really a surprise. Sam did it again, more loudly, and finally they noticed her.

Sam just grinned, enjoying the hell out of the sight in front of her. Nothing but huge shocked eyes and open mouths, and it wasn't every day a girl could say that she'd shocked the entire Quartermaine clan into utter silence.

Sam felt her grin getting bigger. "Hello," she said simply. "When's dinner?"


	13. thirteen: part two of the dinner

_Author's note: I'm so bad at updating…if it helps, this chapter is pretty long…Not much Lucky action, but that'll change in the next chapter. _

The phone was ringing. Max fumbled with it for a moment, then picked it up. "Hello?"

"Max, it's Sonny."

"Yes, sir?"

"Where are you right now?"

Max swallowed. "I'm--I'm in the car." Max wasn't an idiot, and he'd heard more of the fight between Mr. Corinthos and Mr. Morgan than he probably should have. And disloyal though it may have been...he was starting to think that maybe Mr. Morgan had a point.

"Well, where's the car?"

Max sighed, and gave him the information he wanted. "I'm outside of the Quartermaine mansion, sir. Ms. McCall's in there, having dinner with them."

"Does Jason know?"

"I don't know," Max said, and might have added that it didn't exactly seem to be Ms. McCall's style to hide anything, but then, he wasn't paid for his opinions.

And the abrupt click on the other line only proved it.

* * *

Jason stared blankly at the shipping contracts. The words blurred in front of his tired eyes, and he pushed them away, irritated.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. After blowing up at Sonny and Carly, Jason had gone for a quick ride around town on his bike, then come back to the apartment to do some work. But he couldn't concentrate, which was new for him.

Yet another thing that was changing about him.

Jason closed his eyes, remembering the fight that had occurred. He hadn't exploded like that in a long time. And yet, despite his temper having cooled, Jason couldn't find it in himself to regret what he'd done.

Jason wasn't sorry at all, and that fact shook him a little.

There was a knock on the door and Jason looked up. "Who is it?" he called out.

"It's Sonny."

Jason paused. What the hell. "It's open," he said.

Sonny opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind him. "Since when do you knock?" Jason asked curiously.

"Figured it was time I started," Sonny said. He paused. "Are we okay?"

Jason didn't feel guilty for what he'd done. And he was still trying to sort out how he felt about Sonny and Carly right then.

But, dammit, Sonny had always been a constant in Jason's life. Sonny was Jason's boss, his best friend, his family, and Jason couldn't picture _not_ forgiving him. He always had, and he always would.

"Yeah," Jason said, nodding. "We're okay." And they were. Because they were Sonny and Jason, and that was the way it was always going to be, and Jason would always, always find a way to forgive Sonny.

"Good," Sonny said, clearly relieved as he looked around. "Good. What about Carly? You okay with her too?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah."

"It's not that we don't get it," Sonny assured him. "Sam has to be a priority for you now. It's just—the Quartermaines…"

"Sam likes them," Jason said with a shrug. "I don't really understand it, but she's determined to get to know them, and I don't want to fight her on this."

* * *

As a Quartermaine, Dillon knew he was supposed to be horrified by Sam's sudden appearance. But as a future director, he couldn't help but admire the entrance she had made. Excellent timing.

Monica was the first to speak. "Sam, uh...welcome?"

"Thanks, Monica," Sam said cordially, still grinning. "Please, don't let me interrupt." She calmly sat down on a couch and watched them as though they were interesting specimens she'd collected in a petri dish and was now going to observe.

At that moment, Lois, BrookLynn and Justus came in. "Hey, guys," Sam said cheerily. "I just saw my first Quartermaine feud."

Lois looked at the Quartermaines with disgust. "You couldn't even make it to the dinner table without fighting?"

Tracy threw up her hands. "Well, it's not like we upset her! Look at her, she's perfectly fine with it!"

Justus glanced at Sam. "Are you okay?"

"Sure," Sam said, looking bewildered. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Sam, Emily said soothingly, "if you feel at all uncomfortable—"

"Emily," Sam said, "I'm fine. Seriously, what did you expect, that I would burst into tears and run out of the room? Now, what's this about Lorenzo and ELQ?"

"My sister," Alan explained, "being her usual maverick self, decided that the best way to serve ELQ was by bringing a South American drug lord—"

"_Former_ South American drug lord," Lois interjected, and Ned rolled his eyes at this.

"Forgive me," Alan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "a _former_ South American drug lord—"

"What difference does that make?" Monica burst out. "He's still mired in criminal activities!"

"Not anymore," Dillon piped up, then shrank down in his seat at his aunt's fierce glare. He knew it was a little ridiculous, given that he was twice Monica's size, but he couldn't help it. His aunt could be scary when she wanted to be.

"Look," Ned put in to Lois, "I don't care how much you guys like him—"

"_I_ don't like him that much," Brooklyn said. Dillon thought that was only because BrookLynn saw Lorenzo as a roadblock to her parents getting back together, but he kept quiet. It was usually the best course of action at times like these.

"Thank God, at least one person here has some sense," Edward muttered.

"Look, Ned, Lorenzo isn't half as bad as you're making him out to be," Lois insisted, putting her hands on her hips. "For one thing, he's very charming—"

"He's well-mannered," Dillon added.

"For a drug lord, he does have nice manners," Sam agreed, nodding.

"And need I remind you, brother dear," Tracy said sarcastically, "that ELQ wouldn't _be_ in the position it is today if it wasn't for that alcoholic thief you call a son who embezzled _millions_—"

Alan threw his hands up in disgust, "Oh, here we go again—"

"—and that your other son," Tracy continued, her voice rising, "is an enforcer for the mob and breaks the law on a _daily_ basis—"

"Daily?" Justus repeated with a snort, as he sat down next to Sam. "Try _hourly_."

Sam grinned at him. 'So _that's_ how you can afford all those pricey Hugo Boss suits," she teased, plucking at the sleeve of his suit, which was indeed Hugo Boss.

Justus laughed. "Damn straight."

Meanwhile, the feud raged on. "You want to throw potshots at our parenting skills, Tracy—" Monica started dangerously.

Tracy tilted her head, pretending to think about it. "Hmm, now that you mention it, I would!"

"At least none of _my_ sons are bigamists!" Alan thundered.

Now poor Ned was the one throwing up his hands. "Do we really need to bring _that_ up again?"

"Say what?" Sam asked, amazed. She turned to Justus. "Okay, that one I haven't heard."

Dillon sat down on the other side of her. "We have got so much to tell you, Sam, the family history is just--"

"Ridiculous," Justus said flatly. "I'm one of them, technically, and I still can't believe it sometimes."

"The fights--"

"The addictions--"

"The divorces--"

"The board meetings--"

"The court appearances--"

"The Thanksgiving dinners," Justus said, and both he and Dillon shuddered. "If I have to eat takeout one more time," Justus groaned, "I swear I don't know what I'll do."

Sam was giggling. "God, this is better than _Days of our Lives_," she murmured, sitting back in her chair and enjoying the show. "All we need now are embarrassing baby pictures, and my night is complete."

Dillon grinned. "Speaking of pictures..."

* * *

"So, where's Sam?" Sonny asked. They were looking through the paperwork for the casino down in Puerto Rico.

"Out," Jason said. "She's having dinner with the Quartermaines again."

Sonny looked at his best friend. "It really doesn't bother you, does it? Sam there at the mansion, with Edward and all the rest of them--"

Jason looked up, confusion on his face, and Sonny managed to keep from looking triumphant. Jason hadn't known. "What are you talking about? She's having dinner at the Grille with Alan and Monica."

"Jason," Sonny said patiently, "Sam's at the Quartermaine mansion tonight. I called Max, because I needed his help with something, and he said that's where they were." He paused. "Didn't she tell you?"

A flicker of apprehension appeared in Jason's eyes, but he brushed it off. "Sam said she wanted to get to know them, so it's not that big a deal."

"Last time she had dinner with Monica and Alan, she came back on the verge of walking out," Sonny pointed out.

"That was because of you, Sonny, not the Quartermaines," Jason countered. "Sonny, you may not like Sam, but she's carrying my child--"

"I don't have a problem with Sam," Sonny insisted, "she's the one who's got a problem with me. All I'm saying is that if I were you, I'd be really careful about letting the Quartermaines near Sam and the baby. You can't have forgotten what happened last time."

Jason stiffened and Sonny went on. "They took Michael right out of your arms and told you they weren't giving him back. You really think they won't try it again?"

"Sam wouldn't let them," Jason said calmly, but Sonny picked up on the undercurrent of doubt.

And he exploited it. "Sam--I know that she wants to do what's best for this baby," Sonny said carefully. He wouldn't get anywhere attacking Sam, but that was all right. He could work around that. "But the fact is, Sam hasn't been around long enough to realize how the Quartermaines work. Jason, after only one dinner with your parents, she was ready to walk out. What's going to happen when she's surrounded by all these people telling her how dangerous and--and unstable you are?"

* * *

Sam blinked at the pictures in front of her. "Ned, please tell me that's not you."

Ned leaned over her shoulder and looked at the photo album that Dillon and BrookLynn had carefully put together with the help of the staff. "Oh my God, you had to put those pictures in there?" he groaned.

"Hey, not any guy can pull off the leather pants," Sam reassured him, although she still kept giggling. "This was when you were a rock star, right?"

"Yep," BrookLynn said with a giggle. "Sorry, Dad, but it _is_ part of the family history."

Sam turned the page, and found a picture of a younger Alan and Monica, smiling at the camera. "Wow, you guys look happy," Sam said a little wistfully.

"They were probably between divorces and affairs at the time," Tracy said helpfully.

Dillon choked on his soda. "Sorry."

Sam glanced to a picture of Alan, a dark-haired shorter man, and Jason, all wearing tuxedos. "Who's that?"

There was the slightest pause before Alan answered. "AJ. That's my older son, AJ."

AJ Quartermaine. Sam studied the face. Handsome. He looked a little like Alan. Sam tore her eyes away, and looked at the next page. Her jaw dropped.

"Is that…Jason?" she asked. Stupid question, she could tell it was Jason. But...he was so different. He was younger...his face was thinner...the hair...but most of all, the smile. The eyes.

Sam was looking at a completely different person from the one she knew and lived with.

She looked back at the picture of AJ, Alan, and Jason in their tuxedos. If AJ Quartermaine hadn't crashed that car...if Jason Quartermaine hadn't died in that accident and made way for Jason Morgan...if that horrible tragedy hadn't happened...Sam wouldn't be here.

The implications made her head spin, and Sam closed her eyes briefly.

As if she could read Sam's mind, Monica said quietly, "It was a horrible thing, the accident. But I am so glad that you and this baby are here now."

The room was silent, and Sam blinked back tears. "I'm glad too," she whispered, looking up. Monica smiled down at her.

* * *

"Sam's not like that," Jason insisted, standing up. "She makes up her own mind."

Sonny stood up as well. "Jason, we both know that Sam isn't, you know, _comfortable_ with the business. She hates it, in fact. And how hard do you think the Quartermaines are going to have to work to convince her that you're working for the devil, and that she and the baby would be better off far, far away from you?"

Jason's face was no longer an unreadable mask. Now it was laid bare for Sonny to read, and he could see the indecision and the insecurity, the doubt.

Sonny knew that Sam and this baby meant a lot to his friend. And if Jason wanted to keep them, he had to realize that there was no middle ground here. Either Jason went back into the fold of the Quartermaine family, which he would never do, or he continued to work for Sonny.

But he couldn't do both. He couldn't walk that line for long, and neither could Sam.

"Jason..." Sonny stepped closer to him, and looked into his eyes. "Sam's already left the country once. Do you really want to go through another custody battle? Because let me tell you something. If Sam continues to spend time with the Quartermaines, that is _exactly_ what's going to happen."

* * *

"Wow, this looks amazing," Sam said, seeming impressed, as she came into the dining room on Edward's arm.

"Cook is a little temperamental at times," Emily explained, "but when she wants to, she can really whip up some amazing stuff."

Dillon thought wryly that the huge bonus Edward had promised her for making this dinner might have had something to do with it. BrookLynn caught his eye and grinned, and he knew she was thinking the exact same thing.

"I can see that," Sam said as Edward helped her into her seat. She smiled at him, and Dillon could see Edward working the charm. Not in a pervy way though, thank God.

"So," Edward said, beaming paternally at Sam, as the servants brought out the food "--tell me all about--"

A cell phone rang. The paternal smile still on his face, Edward stared daggers at BrookLynn and Dillon, and both of them held up their hands in a universal 'who, me?' gesture.

Like Dillon would be stupid enough to bring his cell phone to dinner, after listening to Edward lecture for fifteen minutes straight on the importance of making a good impression. The whole thing was a little moot for Dillon, seeing as Sam saw him everyday at L&B's, but that didn't matter to Edward. He'd made it clear that if Dillon didn't stay on his best behavior tonight...

Edward turned to Alan, who shook his head. "Don't look at me, Father," Alan said. "I left my phone upstairs--"

Sam held up her cell phone sheepishly. "It's me. I'm so sorry, could you excuse me for a second?"

She stood up and placed her napkin on her chair. "Hello?" she said as she walked to a corner of the room. "Jason? What's up?" There was a pause. "Yes, I'm at the mansion."

Everyone's ears pricked up at that. They all kept eating though, Dillon included, because it would have been impolite to _blatantly_ eavesdrop. The Quartermaines did have manners, after all. They just didn't bother to use them normally.

"Jason, I told you I was having dinner with the Quartermaines." Sam's voice was getting defensive. "Well, if that's what you assumed, then how is that _my_ fault?"

Dillon looked around the table, gratified to see that he wasn't the only one keeping his face totally expressionless. Ned and Brooklyn were staring at their plates, while Alan, Monica, and Edward were quietly carrying on a conversation like there was nothing going on. How they were doing that and still managing to listen was beyond Dillon. Tracy, however, was leaning back in her chair, obviously eavesdropping and just as obviously enjoying herself. Emily was glaring at her.

Reginald was serving the lamb, and his mouth was pursed as though he was trying very hard not to grin.

"Jason, what's the big deal? So I'm having dinner with--okay, there is no need to make it sound like that--you're being completely irrational. I didn't mislead you, you misled yourself!"

Another pause. By this point, no one was even _pretending_ that they weren't listening to the conversation.

Sam was tapping her foot irritably. "What? Yes, your grandfather is here." Everyone looked at Edward. "No, things are going just fine…yes, I happen to like him, and what's wrong with that?" Sam sighed loudly. "So what if he's known for manipulation? So's Sonny! Besides, your grandfather's charming."

Tracy choked on her wine.

Then Sam snorted. "Jason, I hate to break it to you, but Sonny is not charming, he's just creepy."

Now Dillon was choking, this time on the lamb. No _way_ did she just say that. Ned beamed, because anyone who insulted Sonny Corinthos automatically got into his good graces.

Sam sighed again. "Jason, you are being completely irrational and I'm in the middle of dinner. We'll finish this when I get home." Sam hung up with a flourish and sat down in her chair, clearly peeved.

Alan looked around and said, "Well, I for one, am going to address the pink elephant in the room. Is everything all right?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Oh, everything's fine, other than the fact that Jason's acting like a caveman. It's not my fault if he assumed that tonight's dinner didn't involve the rest of you."

"Is he upset?" Emily asked.

Sam scoffed. "If he is, I don't care," she declared.

Dillon considered applauding, but decided it would probably be in bad taste.

* * *

Jason stared at the phone. "She hung up."

Sonny was sitting on the couch. "Let me guess, she said everything was fine, that the Quartermaines were great, you were being paranoid."

"Oh, yeah," Jason said, still stunned. "She said Edward was charming."

Sonny leaned back, his eyes wide. "Really? Damn, the old man works fast. I'm impressed."

Jason stared at him, his eyes wide. "Sonny, this isn't funny."

"I know it's not," Sonny said. "But you know this is only going to get worse, right? I'm just saying you might want to set some limits...nip this in the bud before it goes too far."

Jason nodded, and Sonny knew he had Jason right where he wanted him. "Yeah."

* * *

"So, what's the deal with this Nurses' Ball thing?" Sam asked.

Everyone immediately lit up and started explaining--

"It showcases the talent in Port Charles..."

"...there's food, singing, dancing..."

"...it raises money for the AIDS foundation...money they need more than ever now.."

"Please, it's a chance for everyone to show off! Personally, I'm hoping for a fistfight."

"Tracy, this is Port Charles. There's a fistfight or shootout every fifteen minutes!"

Sam reflected that it was amazing how relaxed she felt. She felt...in her element. Which was insane, considering she'd never been in these sort of surroundings before.

But it was obvious that the Quartermaines were doing their best to make her feel welcome, and they were doing a bang-up job. She felt more comfortable with them in five minutes than she ever had with Sonny and Carly.

Not that she wasn't expecting the Quartermaines to have their bad side, because she knew that they did. Sam had been warned enough about that...but somehow...it didn't seem like such a bad or scary thing.

Nothing about the Quartermaines had scared her as much as the thought of Sonny Corinthos and his business had...

Before Sam could think too much about that, the maid came in. "Excuse me, but...there's a visitor here, and he won't leave."

"Who is it?" Edward asked, frowning darkly. He'd lightened up somewhat, but Sam could still tell he was determined to make sure that things kept going smoothly tonight. Clearly, Edward Quartermaine was a guy who was used to getting his way when it came to everything.

But Sam already knew. Somehow, she knew. "It's Jason, isn't it?" she said quietly.

The maid nodded, confirming it, and a tension fell over everyone. Sam gritted her teeth.

Damn him. Arrogant son of a _bitch_...What the hell was he trying to pull? Sam hadn't come running when he'd ordered her to come home, so he was here to drag her back home?

Oh, that bastard...

Alan spoke. "Send him in."

_Yes,_ Sam thought with outraged fury. _Send him in so I can rip a strip off his back._

* * *

Jason would never, never get used to this place. The mansion itself seemed to demand something of him, the walls whispering in his ears..._Come back, Jason..._

But he wasn't coming back. He wouldn't. Jason Quartermaine was dead and buried, and he had nothing in common with the dutiful son and brother who had died in a car accident years ago. Nothing in common but the fact that they shared the same face and first name.

That was just the way it was, the way it would always be, no matter how hard the Quartermaines fought it. And they always would fight, Jason knew. They would never let it be, and if Sam brought them into his life...their life...no matter how many promises they made, no matter how many boundaries they would initially set up...sooner or later, they would drown Jason with their demands.

What the hell had he been thinking? This could never have worked out. Better that he had realized it now, before things had gotten too far...

But no, it hadn't been like that. _Sonny_ had been the one to...For a moment, Jason felt a chill pass over his body, remembering his conversation with Sonny right before he had rushed over here, but then resolutely pushed it aside.

After all, what did it matter if Sonny had been the first one to bring it up? Sonny had been right.

The maid appeared again. "Come on," she said, and Jason followed her into the dining room.

They were all gathered at the table, staring at him. Jason ignored them however, and only looked at Sam.

She was pissed, that was clear. Her jaw was set, her dark eyes glittering in a way Jason hadn't seen since--

since the night she'd found out about Sonny and Carly and the coma. Oh, boy. Except now she didn't look heartsick or distressed. Just very, _very _angry.

For the first time, Jason started to really question the wisdom of coming here.

No one said anything. Finally, Edward said, still blustering, but somehow with an effort, "What are you doing here, Jason? You're interrupting our dinner."

Jason didn't bother looking at him, and kept his gaze focused on Sam. "Sam, what are you doing?" he asked at last.

Despite the anger he saw in her eyes, Sam seemed calm, which was weirding Jason out. "Having dinner. The lamb is just _amazing_, you should really try it--"

"I can see that you're having dinner, Sam," Jason said with forced patience. "What I mean is, what are you doing having dinner _here_?"

"Because I was invited," Sam replied breezily.

"Okay, then why were you invited?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Sam asked, her eyes wide with pretend innocence. "Because you knocked me up." She smiled at him tightly at him while Dillon, taking a sip of the water, choked and Ned started pounding him on the back.

Still the rest of the Quartermaines didn't say anything.

Jason gritted his teeth. Sam was in one of her difficult moods, and was clearly spoiling for a fight. Well, so was he, but that didn't mean he wanted to do it in front of everyone. "Can we talk about this in private."

"No," Sam said.

He blinked. "No?" he repeated in shock.

"No," Sam said again, and stood up. "Jason," she said softly, dangerously, "I'm going to let you in on something that is probably going to rock your world. Are you listening?"

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

And then Sam dropped her bomb. "I like your family."

Jason was dumbfounded. She _what_?

Sam looked around. "Did the world end? Did the earth stop spinning on its axis?" she wondered sarcastically. "No? Imagine that."

"Sam--" Jason started, but she didn't let him finish.

"I _like_ them, okay? Deal with it. And who the hell do you think you are, barging in here like some goddamned caveman, trying to drag me off to the penthouse where you can set your watchdogs on me!"

Jason felt completely off-balance, like the ground had shifted underneath his feet. Shit. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

"You remember our bargain, Jason?" Sam asked. "I agreed to stay, and you agreed to let me make up my own mind about your family. Well, I have, and I like them. Now, you can either accept it, or you can put up a fight and piss me off even more. If I were you, I'd go for the first option."

Damn. The thought of the yelling they'd have to go through…Jason was getting a headache at the prospect. He didn't mind fighting, but Sam had a way of digging in her heels and refusing to give up until he finally came around. "This just can't work--"

"Why the hell not?" Sam demanded angrily. "Give me one good reason why this can't work. And if you say because of Sonny, I swear to God, I'll scream."

"It just _can't_," Jason insisted. He and the Quartermaines were like oil and water. They didn't mix, never had, never would.

Monica finally decided to speak. "Jason, what are you so worried about? We're not trying to manipulate Sam, we're just trying to get to know her."

"For God's sake," Alan burst out, "all we're trying to do is get a chance to know _one_ of our grandchildren."

For a second, Jason wavered...a sudden wave of guilt spread throughout his gut…

Sam pressed on. "Jason, if you think I'm leaving with you, you're crazy. I am staying right here." To emphasize her point, she plopped right back down in her seat, and folded her arms.

Jesus. He was screwed. Short of physically dragging her out of there--and that Jason wouldn't do--he was stuck.

"And if you're so worried about the Quartermaines manipulating me, then hell, stick around to watch!" Sam suggested flippantly. "Either you stay here or you leave, but I'm not leaving no matter what you do. So, what's it going to be?"

* * *

"Okay, so there's Diego, acting like the supreme authority on films, when he is so totally wrong--hey, Jason, could you pass the salt--the guy sees a few indie films, and suddenly he's an expert?" Dillon ranted, indignant.

Jason briefly considered throwing the salt shaker at Dillon's head so he could shut up already, but reconsidered. Sam would kill him. Painfully.

He silently handed the salt shaker over.

"It's not like he religiously follows the Sundance Festival every year or--"

On the other end of the table, Edward was once again arguing with Tracy and Ned. "I don't give a damn how much money the man's got, he's a menace!"

"Oh, give me a break," Tracy groaned. "If anyone's a menace, it's you--"

"Hear, hear," Ned muttered in agreement.

Monica and Alan were on another side, with Lois piping in. "It's completely and totally inapprorpriate for an Attending to have relations with a medical student!" Alan insisted.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Alan," Monica said impatiently, "the two just had dinner."

"I agree," Lois said. "I think you're making way too much of this--"

Jason turned away from them. Across the table, Emily was rambling on and on about her wedding plans to Justus. "And Elizabeth is worried about the shower being too formal...but I don't think holding it at the hotel would be too formal, would it? Or maybe we should have it here, at the mansion...Wyndamere is totally out of the question, when I move in, I'm planning on completely redecorating the place..."

Justus's eyes had glazed over ages ago, but Emily didn't notice and prattled on.

Jason was now thoroughly convinced that he was in hell.

* * *

This night was turning out better than Monica had hoped for. Sam was still here, and Jason had joined them. Glancing at her son and feeling the now-familiar feeling of pain and longing, Monica turned to Sam. "Have you started working on a nursery?"

Sam shook her head. "Not yet."

"Well, you might want to get started," Lois put in. "It's never too early to get everything settled."

"Oh, I know," Sam agreed, "but Jason and I are trying to find a house, so--"

She was interrupted by the sound of Alan and Ned simultaneously choking on their wine. Sam stopped and waited politely for them to recover.

Alan spoke first. "You and Jason are...moving out of the penthouse?"

Jason answered for her. "Sam wanted to move out, so we are."

Monica looked around the table, silently pleading with everyone not to make a big deal out of this. And thankfully they didn't. Ned smoothly changed the conversation into less loaded subjects.

* * *

Jason waited by the car while Sam said goodbye. He didn't care if it was rude, after this evening he'd had his fill of Quartermaines. Finally, Sam finished, and without looking at him, slipped into the car. Jason got in after her.

He chanced a glance at her. Sam's face was set. Finally, she spoke. "If you don't trust me, I would really just like it if you said so."

"I do trust you," Jason said quietly. "I don't trust _them_."

"You mean, you don't trust my judgment," Sam said heatedly.

Jason could feel himself starting to lose his temper. "Like you trust _mine_?" he shot back. "I told you that Sonny was all right, that the Quartermaines were messed-up and that we were better off away from them, and you didn't listen!"

"Hah!" Sam twisted around in her seat. "Let's go over this. Sonny launders money, smuggles in weapons, shoots pregnant women in the head, bribes people, and God knows _what_ else, and yet the _Quartermaines_ are the bad guys? Because what, they yell?" She made a derisive noise. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Jason forced himself to remain calm. "The Quartermaines want to control everyone."

"And Sonny doesn't?" Sam snapped. "Wake up, Jason. Who's more freaked out about the Quartermaines, you or Sonny?"

Again, Jason could feel himself tipping off-balance, the ground shifting underneath his feet. "It's not like that," he heard himself mutter. "There's Michael--"

"That's an excuse and you know it," Sam spat. "Come on, Jason, tell me the truth. Whose idea was it for you to go over to the mansion and drag me out of there? Yours, or Sonny's?"

Jason was really mad by this point, ready to throw a retort in her face, hotly deny everything--

except that he couldn't. He couldn't deny any of it. That realization hit Jason like a two-by-four to the gut. _Sonny_ had been the one to tell Jason that Sam was over there, that Sam was in danger from the Quartermaines--

Jesus Christ. Jason had barged in there, acted like an idiot, broken the pact that he and Sam had made, gotten into a fight with her--and for what? For a stance that Jason wasn't even so sure about anymore? Jason ran over the conversation he'd had earlier with Sonny, and felt a suddden chill.

Sam spoke softly. "I can't live like this, Jason."

A knot of fear coiled up in Jason's stomach. Scared that the next words out of her mouth were going to be, _"I have to leave,"_ he said quickly, "Look, we'll figure something out--"

As if he hadn't spoken, Sam continued. "Tell me how I'm supposed to live like this, with you and Sonny dictating everything, who I can talk to, where I can go, what I can think--"

"I'm not trying to do that--"

"Even if you aren't," Sam said loudly, speaking over him, "--which I'm really starting to doubt, Sonny definitely is, and I won't let him do that. Not to me, and not to my daughter."

For the first time, Jason understood why Sam was pushing so hard. Because Jason's life, as it was now, couldn't work for Sam or the baby. Sam would have to change herself, change every part of her personality--her fierce independence, her brutal honesty--if Jason wanted to keep his life the way it was.

So, he would have to change.

Sam sighed. "Look...I'm tired. Please, Jason, I know this is hard for you, but you have got to trust me."

Jason sighed. "I do trust you. It's just—can you give me a little time to get used to the idea? The Quartermaines haven't been a part of my life since—well, they've never been a part of my life. And it's going to take some time for me to adjust, that's all."

Sam nodded. "Okay, I'll try to be sensitive to that, but you have to give them a chance too."

Jason nodded reluctantly. "Even Edward?"

"Even Edward. And Tracy too," Sam added, and at his horrified look, amended, "But you don't have to be that nice to them."

Jason sighed in relief. "Good."

"You know…" Sam said conversationally, "if you're so worried about Edward and the Quartermaines manipulating me…maybe you could come with me sometimes."

Jason stared at her in horror. "You mean…go through all that again?"

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad—"

"No, it really was," he insisted, then frowned. "You're not…trying something, are you?"

Sam scoffed. "Jason, please. I just think—if you're there, and you see for yourself that nothing is going on…maybe you won't be so worried. It's just dinner. I'm not asking you to take on the family name or anything."

"Just dinner?" he asked warily. "Once in a while?"

"Yeah," Sam assured him, smiling. "And you don't have to be nice to Edward and Tracy, I promise."

To Jason's shock, he said, "Let me think about it."

Say _what_? Was he seriously agreeing to this insanity? Oh God…but maybe it would work out. At least then he'd be around to keep an eye on things.

He added, striving for casual, "And maybe…we should move out of the penthouse sooner than we planned."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Definitely." There was a pause, then— "Sonny was the one who told you I was having dinner at the mansion tonight, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Jason admitted, waiting for the blow-up.

"I thought so," Sam said, and that was the end of it, to his surprise.

Yeah. They definitely needed to move out soon.

* * *

They were quiet in the elevator, but the wheels in Sam's head was turning. After tonight...she felt like raising a little hell. After all, if she was going to stay in this town, she needed the practice.

When they made it to their floor, Sam turned to Jason, "Do you mind if I go over to Sonny's for a little bit?"

Jason's eyes widened. "Um, Sam, that's really not a good idea--"

"Just for five minutes," she promised. "And I won't be too mean."

"Actually, that wasn't what I was worried about," Jason told her. "I'm just worried about your blood pressure. If you get into a fight with Sonny."

"I won't get into a fight," Sam promised. "Look, why don't you wait right outside the door. If you start to hear yelling, you can bust right in."

Jason looked somewhat pacified. "Allright." As she was about to reach the door, he said, "Hey…if you really want to piss him off…"

Sam turned around hopefully. "Yes?"

A slight quirk of the mouth and a shrug, as he said, "Tell Sonny I'm coming with you to the dinners from now on."

Sam blinked in surprise. "But…won't that be a lie?"

Jason smirked. "Not if you say it. And not if I actually plan on going, which I am."

Sam's mouth fell open, but she couldn't help it. "Seriously?"

"Well, somebody's got to protect you from Edward…"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at that, and to her surprise, Jason smiled back. A real smile.

Well, what do you know? This night was filled with surprises.

* * *

The phone rang and Sonny picked it up. "Hello? They're back? Uh-huh…how'd it go?"

Carly looked up from her magazine to find her husband frowning. "He _stayed_? Why? Did they fight later? Uh-huh…"

When Sonny finally hung up, Carly asked, "You really think it's a good idea to keep tabs on Jason like this?"

"I'm just looking out for him," Sonny muttered. "The Quartermaines—"

"—aren't nearly as sneaky and manipulative as you," Sam finished smugly, standing in the doorway. "You know, you really should lock your door." She smiled widely, utterly confident.

Carly was torn between shock and—reluctant respect.

Sam stepped into the penthouse slowly. "I have to say, I'm impressed, Sonny. The way you handled this…preying on Jason's insecurities and fears…getting him to rush over to the mansion, keeping tabs on us through Max…" She clapped slowly, once, twice, three times, her mouth still curved in that amused, cold smile. "Pity it backfired on you so badly though."

Sonny, to his credit, was keeping his cool for the most part. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "How's that?"

Sam tilted her head. "Well, for one thing, Jason didn't drag me out of there. He actually stayed for dinner…but then, you already know that, don't you?" She grinned humorlessly. "And we actually came to an understanding. Not only am I still going to have dinner with the Quartermaines on a regular basis, but Jason is going to come with me."

Carly's mouth fell open in shock. How in the complete hell had she managed that?

Sonny was just as shocked as she was. "You're lying," he said slowly, his eyes wide. "Jason hates the Quartermaines…he would never…"

"Oh, but he would," Sam assured him. "He's already agreed to it, Sonny, and he's also agreed not to get in the way of me getting to know his family. Because they are his family, Sonny, no matter how much you may hate that fact."

She stepped closer to Sonny, getting into his face. "You lost Sonny," she said coldly. "Get over it."

At that point, Carly decided to step in. Getting up off the couch, she demanded icily, "Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here—"

Sonny held up a hand to silence her. "It's all right, Carly." Seething, Carly obeyed the unspoken order to keep quiet. Sonny grinned without mirth, flashing his dimples. "So, is this the part where you tell me that if I ever do anything like this again, I'll regret it?"

Sam actually laughed. "Oh, no. Please, go right ahead with your schemes if that's what you want. It'll actually be kind of fun to watch. Because here's the thing, Sonny: I'm on to you now. And what's more important, so is Jason. So nothing you do can make a difference."

Sam walked away, then stopped at the door. She turned back. "But it was a really good effort, Sonny. I mean that." With a smug smile that made Carly want to slap her, Sam slipped out of the apartment.

For a minute, neither she nor Sonny said a word. Finally, Sonny shook his head. "I'm going upstairs."

"Sonny," Carly started, but he held up his hand again.

"Don't."

He disappeared up the stairs without another word, and Carly sank back onto the couch, sulking.

* * *

Jason had gone to bed, but Sam was staying up, watching reruns of Fear Factor. She cringed as the contestants were told to eat food that no human being should ever digest. "Who would do that for fifty grand?" she muttered. "If you're going to humiliate yourself on national TV, at least hold out for a million bucks."

She glanced at the phone. Sam wanted to talk to somebody, rehash the night's events… but Jason was already in bed…

Lucky. Quickly, Sam grabbed the phone and scrambled through her purse, looking for the number. As she punched it in, she murmured, "Please…please, don't be sleeping…"

"Hello?" Lucky sounded wide-awake, which was a good thing.

She smiled in relief. "Lucky, it's Sam. Am I calling too late?"

"No, no," he assured her. "I was up. So, what happened?"

Sam laughed. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you…"

Lucky chuckled. "Sam, it's the Quartermaines. I'd believe anything of them."

"Okay, so when I got there, I walked right into a huge battle over Lorenzo Alcazar…"

As Sam went on, she couldn't help but notice that Lucky was a little more quiet than usual. He laughed in all the right places, but his laugh was subdued. "Lucky, are you all right?" she asked at last.

There was a long pause. "I'm fine."

"Liar," Sam said automatically. "Come on, tell me. What's wrong?"

Another long pause, and then—"Mac Scorpio just called, about ten minutes ago."

"Your boss?" Sam asked in confusion. "Okay, what'd he say? Are you in trouble?"

"No, not me." Lucky sounded so…tired and lost. "Sam…Skye Quartermaine…the woman my dad was seeing—"

"The woman who went down for a murder you think she didn't commit? Yeah, what about her?"

On the other end of the phone, Lucky sighed. "Sam…she just escaped from prison tonight."

Sam blinked. "Oh. Damn."

"Exactly."


	14. fourteen: at the police station

"More pancakes?" Jason offered the next morning.

Sam looked up at him from her chair, raising an eyebrow. "Do you need to ask?"

Jason immediately set down another two pancakes onto her plate. "Here. Eat."

"Believe me, I will," Sam said greedily as she drowned the fluffy pancakes in syrup. "By the way, Sonny's been making Max spy on us. It's how he found out I was at the mansion."

Jason shook his head. "Jesus, he's lost his mind," he muttered.

"You mean he had one to begin with?" Sam quipped.

Jason had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at that. "I talked to the real estate agent...and she's got a couple of houses we could look at...I've got to work today, but maybe later in the afternoon."

Sam took one last slurp of her mango juice, then stood up. "Okay, I'm going to get out of here, I have an appointment."

"With Dr. Meadows?"

Sam snorted. "The dragon lady? No, with Lois. We're going shopping."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Why am I even surprised? Have fun."

Sam smiled and to his surprise, kissed him on his cheek. He enjoyed the contact, his hand resting on her gently curving belly for a second. When she pulled back, on an impulse, Jason quickly kissed her on the mouth.

Sam blinked, but smiled at him. "Nice."

There was a knock on the door, and Sam leaned her head back and groaned. "Bet you five bucks it's Sonny or Carly."

Jason shook his head. "No bet. That's too easy." The doorbell rang insistantly, again and again.

Sam shrugged and went to the door, Jason trailing her.

It was Carly, with a sour expression.

"Hello, Carly. Bye, Carly," Sam said breezily as she walked past her.

"Hey, I want to talk to you--"

"I can't talk, and more importantly, I don't want to talk to you," Sam said clearly as she waltzed to the elevator, pushing the button. She smiled brightly as the doors opened. "Have fun, Jason."

Carly glared daggers as Sam slipped into the elevator. "What you see in her, I'll never know."

"Funny, people say the same thing about you," Jason pointed out.

Carly glared at him. "Jason--"

He rolled his eyes. "Carly, whatever it is, make it fast. I'm not in the mood." He went back into the penthouse, and Carly followed.

"You know," she said as she closed the door behind her, "you've been acting strange since she moved in with you. You're making plans to move out, you blow up at me and Sonny, you're spending time with the family you hate--"

"I don't hate the Quartermaines," Jason said shortly. Hate was too strong a word. The Quartermaines exasperated him, made him furious--but he'd never _hated_ them. Not even AJ. He looked over at Sonny and Carly. "And I don't hate you or Sonny, but I'm not gonna lie to you. Both of you need to learn that there is a line you can't cross. Not anymore."

He stared at Carly, his ex-girlfriend, one of his best friends, and told her, "I've got different priorities now, Carly. I have to."

* * *

"You're friends with him?"

Lois shrugged and took a sip of her espresso. "Believe it or not, Sonny was--different, back then. We grew up together." She frowned, disbelieving. "He really had Max spying on you?"

"Yep," Sam said calmly, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I've had a bad feeling about Sonny from the beginning and it's only intensified as I've gotten to know him. He creeps me out, I don't like him, and I'm not going to hide it."

"Good for you," Lois said. "Hey, I will be the first to admit Sonny's ego needs deflating every once in a while." She grinned as they came up to a lingerie store. "Ooh."

Sam had to laugh. "Lois, are you kidding me? There's no way I can fit into any of those. Besides, who will I wear them for?"

"We can find something for you, and what about Jason?" Lois waggled her eyebrows mischeviously. "Bet he'd appreciate--"

"Lois!" Sam gave the older woman a speculative look. "So, what's going on with you and Lorenzo? I know Ned's been complaining about it a lot..."

Lois shrugged. "We're just friends, I swear. He's a fascinating, attractive man...but it's strictly platonic."

Sam nodded in understanding. "Because you're into Ned."

Lois choked on her coffee. "I beg your pardon?"

Sam gave her a look. "Lois, please. Don't even try to deny it."

Lois's shoulders caved, and she gave in. "All right, I admit it. I've been feeling a few...sparks lately. But--it's complicated."

"It always is," Sam said in sympathy.

* * *

"You know, Sam stopped by the other night," Sonny said, looking at Jason.

Jason didn't glance up from the papers. "I know."

Sonny stared at his best friend. "And is what she said true? Are you going to spend more time with the Quartermaines now?"

Jason finally looked up, his blue eyes steady, unreadable. "Yes."

Sonny couldn't believe it. "Jason--"

"Sonny." Jason's blue eyes were growing colder. "I know what you were trying to do last night. You tried to push my buttons and it almost worked." Jason paused. "You're my best friend, you're my boss--but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I won't be responsible for what happens next."

He turned back to the papers, and Sonny stood there, more shaken than he wanted to admit.

The phone rang, piercing the silence. Sonny picked it up. "Hello?" For the next few minutes, he listened to the frenzied, panicked voice on the other line. Then he hung up. "Jason, there's a problem at one of the warehouses."

"Yeah, what?"

"It just got blown up."

* * *

"It makes no freakin' sense," Murphy declared for the fifth time. "How the hell do you break out of a maximum security prison? What'd she do, dig out of there with a spoon?"

Lucky didn't bother responding, as he knew his partner only wanted to vent.

"This is just great," Murphy muttered. "You know this is going to make us look even more incompetant--"

"Technically, it makes the Pentonville guards look incompetant, not us," Lucky said mildly.

Murphy waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever, man. You realize the Mayor's been shut up in the interrogation room with Lansing and Mac all day?"

Lucky glanced nervously at the door. "Yeah." Lucky hadn't missed the dirty look the Mayor had given him as he'd stalked to the room, followed by Ric and Mac.

"Didn't look too happy," Murphy mused. "But then, who is? The press is camped outside, having a damn field day..."

"I can see the headlines now," Lucky muttered. "Convicted Heiress Escapes From Prison!" He groaned and shook his head. "What a mess."

"You've got that right," Terry MacMillan, a detective, muttered. "Stupid bitch..."

"Hey," Lucky warned sharply, bristling at the term. "Back off."

Terry stared at him. "Are you kidding me? You're _defending_ that murdering--look, man, I know she and your dad used to be tight, but she _killed a cop_. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

The bullpen quieted as everyone waited for his answer, and Lucky gritted his teeth. "Of course it means something to me. But have you ever considered that maybe Skye was innocent, and that's why she ran?"

Terry made a derisive noise. "Oh, please. The case was cut-and-dried, man--"

"Believe what you want," Lucky muttered.

Terry looked ready to explode, but Murphy cut in. "Hey, hey, relax. We've already got enough issues to deal with--"

"I want him gone!"

Everyone immediately turned towards the interrogation room, where the door had opened a crack, allowing the Mayor's voice to be heard.

"Oh, come on," Mac said. "Lucky's one of my best men!"

Lucky went cold. They were talking about _him_? People were either determinedly avoiding his gaze or staring at Lucky avidly.

Ric Lansing came in. "You have no grounds for dismissing him from the force--"

"I said I wanted him gone!" the Mayor bellowed. "This entire escape has Luke Spencer's M.O all over it--"

"Even if Luke had something to do with it," Ric countered, "which you can't prove...Lucky definitely didn't have anything to do with it. What possible reason could he have for trashing his career like that?"

There was a long pause, in which Lucky tried to fathom the idea of Ric actually coming to his defense.

"Is it just me, Lansing, or are you less dismayed by this fiasco than you should be?"

Lucky could almost _hear_ Ric's answering glare. "If I'm not as dismayed as you are, it's only because I have the balls to admit that I might have made a mistake."

Lucky's jaw hit the floor, and Murphy whistled long and low.

"Oh," the Mayor groaned, "not this again...you can't honestly think she's innocent!"

"You know what?" Ric yelled out. "Yes, all right, I admit it. I think there is a very good chance that Skye was innocent. What I can't figure out is why the _hell_ you're stonewalling all of our attempts to find out what really happened--"

"A cop was murdered, we found the killer, and you did your job and convicted her!" Mayor Osbourne sputtered.

"And what if she was innocent?" Mac asked. "What if there was a huge mistake made, and the wrong person was sent to jail?"

"I won't listen to this any more," Osbourne blustered. "I want Spencer suspended until this whole mess is straightened out and Skye Quartermaine is back in jail where she belongs, or else!"

"Or else what?" Ric demanded, sneering. "You'll fire me and Mac? Get this through your head--if Lucky goes, I walk."

Murphy whistled again. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.

"You wouldn't dare," Osbourne blustered again, yet with an undertone of doubt.

"Want to try me?" Ric asked. "And not only that, I'll go straight to the press and tell them that not only do I have grave doubts about Skye's guilt, but that you've been stonewalling the investigation since day one. I wonder what they'd make of that?"

There was a long silence, then the Mayor burst out of the room, face red and not looking at anyone as he stormed out.

Ric appeared in the doorway then, looking pissed off. "Lucky!" he roared. "Get your ass in here!"

Lucky shot out of his chair and went into the interrogation room. Ric closed the door behind them. "Okay, new rules," he said, glancing over at Mac, who jumped in.

"You're back on the Ross Duncan case, and any time you spend on it will be qualified as overtime and you'll be paid as such," Mac explained.

Lucky blinked. Damn. He opened his mouth then closed it, not knowing what to say. "You--thanks. I heard what you said to him."

"Along with the entire bullpen, I take it?" Mac asked, smiling.

"Pretty much," Lucky laughed.

Even Ric cracked a smile. "Now, I might finally get Alexis to shut up..."

Lucky grinned, remembering the memorable run-ins between those two. "She's been bothering you?"

Ric nodded, rolling his eyes. "Oh, you have no idea. The woman won't leave me alone...it's gotten so bad, that even when she's not around, her voice is still nagging me in my head every time I'm reminded of Skye." He shook his head. "Do me a favor, all right? Make sure that the guys out looking for her...don't look too hard."

Lucky smiled. "Maybe she's with my dad, like Osbourne said," he suggested, although he didn't really believe it.

"Or with the Quartermaines," Mac offered.

"Yeah," Ric said. "Like I said, don't look too hard for her."

The door burst open, and Murphy stood there, wild-eyed. "Sorry to interrupt, but all hell's breaking loose out on the docks--"

"What else is new?" Mac wondered. "What is it this time?"

* * *

Sam and Lois walked into the door of Kelly's, chatting. "So, what's so impossible about you and Ned?" Sam asked.

Lois sighed. "Sam, I walked out on him because I couldn't deal with his family. He thinks it's because I wanted Eddie Maine instead of Ned Ashton."

Sam frowned as they sat down at a table. "Aren't they the same person?"

"Damned if I know."

Sam shook her head in disgust. "That kind of thing never makes sense to me. You are who you are, no matter the name you're calling yourself by. I mean, I've worn my fair share of disguises and had a few aliases--"

"By a few, you mean a lot, right?" Lois asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Sam grinned. "But at the end of the day, I was always Samantha McCall. Didn't matter if I was a blond, a brunette, or a redhead, I was still me."

"Hello, ladies," Mike said with a welcoming smile as he walked up to their table. "What can I get you--"

"Mike!" Diego Sanchez burst into the restaurant, his face sooty. "Mike, turn on the news! A warehouse just exploded--"

"Oh, God," Mike groaned, and rushed back to the counter.

The hair on the back of Sam's neck was tingling for some reason, and she didn't know why.

And then she did.

Back in the beginning, when she'd been in her first trimester and scared out of her mind, when Coleman was driving her to the plane that would take her to Costa Rica, he'd mentioned something…about Jason and Sonny…

"—_if there's not a bomb in their limos, odds are it's in their warehouses…"_

"—a warehouse belonging to Corinthos/Morgan Imports has just exploded," the newscaster was saying.

Sam felt the blood drain from her face. "Oh, God," she muttered, quickly standing up and running to the counter.

"—so far, there appear to be no casualties, and there seems to be no victims. Many believe this to be yet another incident in the escalating war between alleged crime boss Sonny Corinthos and alleged Mafia princess Faith Rosco…police so far have given us no comment, and as you can see, firefighters are still hard at work trying to contain the blaze—"

"Jesus," Mike groaned, "just look at that mess—"

"This happens a lot around here, huh?" Sam asked quietly, shaken more than she wanted to admit.

Lois didn't lie. "Yeah."

Sam's phone rang. "Damn," Sam muttered, flipping it open. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "Carly, why are you calling—yes, I just heard—what do you mean, I have to go to the police station? Excuse me? Carly—Carly, would you calm down, I can barely understand—ugh, fine! I'll be there!"

Sam snapped her phone shut and took a deep, calming breath. Mike was watching her warily. "I take it that was Carly?"

Sam groaned. "Unfortunately, yes."

* * *

Sam's mouth fell open as she walked into the PCPD. It was utter chaos. People were running around, being handcuffed—

"Hey, hey, watch it!" she yelled as she was jostled by the crowd. "Pregnant woman coming through!" She pushed her way through, yelling out, "Pregnant woman, do _not_ push, watch it, WATCH IT!"

Finally she saw Carly. "Carly," Sam said in exasperation, "I'm here, what the hell do you want."

Carly spun around. "What took you so long?" she snapped, looking peevish.

Sam rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, I'm so sorry I can't be at the beck and call of the great Carly Corinthos, but some of us actually try to have a life outside of you and your screwed-up family. So, again, why the hell did you call me here?"

Carly glared at her. "Sonny and Jason need our help."

"With what?" Sam asked in bewilderment. "The warehouse?" She looked up and down Carly's blood-red, shiny blouse. "Unless you've got a hose hidden in that blouse, there's not much we can do…"

Carly rolled her eyes so hard they looked like they were about to fall out of her head. "No, you twit, we have to—Mac!"

Sam turned to see Mac Scorpio walking near by. At the sound of Carly's voice, the man stopped dead, and Sam thought she saw his shoulders slump. He turned. "Hello, Carly," he said wearily.

"Just what are Sonny and Jason doing here?" Carly demanded, and Sam raised an eyebrow at Carly's tone.

Mac sighed. "Carly, relax, we haven't even arrested them—"

"Oh, I see, so you just drag in innocent citizens and hold them here for hours—"

"They've only been here for fifteen minutes!" Max said, exasperated.

Sam had to say something at this. "Carly, a warehouse exploded," she pointed out. "The police have to talk to the owners, it's procedure. Don't you watch any _Law and Order_?"

Carly gave her a snotty look. "You're _supposed_ to be helping," she hissed.

Sam's mouth fell open in shock. "Help you with what, acting like an entitled witch? Carly, let me tell you something, you don't need my help with that."

Carly whirled around at that. "You little bitch, I should have known you wouldn't have any loyalty--"

"_Bitch_?" Sam echoed in anger and disbelief. "Are you _kidding_ me? You barge in here, acting like you own the place, and start bugging the Police Commissioner when he's probably got a million better things to do than deal with a brat like you, and _I'm_ the bitch? Give me a break!"

"Now hold on," Carly started, but Sam wouldn't let her get started.

"I wasn't finished, _bitch_," Sam said coldly, holding up a hand. "I think I've demonstrated this before, but let me spell it out for you, since you clearly aren't getting it. I don't give a rat's ass about you or Sonny. The most I feel for you is indifferent dislike, and as for that asshole husband of yours…well, he can rot in hell as far as I'm concerned. So if you think you can just summon me here so that I'll help you yell at people who are just doing their jobs, you are sadly mistaken."

She turned to Mac, who seemed stunned for some reason. "Hi," Sam said with a gracious smile. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but did you arrest Jason Morgan?"

"No," Mac said firmly. "We're just questioning them."

"Uh huh, and does he have his lawyers with him?" Sam asked, still smiling.

"Yes, he does," Mac said.

Sam threw up her hands and gave Carly a triumphant look. "There you go!"

Carly snorted in disgust. "Whatever," she muttered.

* * *

"All right, all right, calm the hell down!" Lucky yelled as he and Murphy wrestled one of Sonny's goons into the bullpen.

"You're not doing yourself any favors, you idiot!" Murphy yelled.

"You guys can't touch me!" the idiot yelled back. "I work for Sonny Corinthos!"

"Oh, shut up," Lucky groaned. "Jackass."

Finally, they got the guy into a cell, and Lucky touched the cut on his forehead, wincing as he did so. The bastard they'd just collared had decided to go and hit Lucky when they'd tried to bring him in.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital," Murphy said. "You might have a concussion--"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, if you weren't with Jason Morgan, I'd so be proposing marriage to you right now," Lucky heard someone say.

"Say what?" he muttered, scanning the crowd.

Perp--cop--hooker--detective--Carly, ugh--another detective--Sam--detective--perp--

Wait. Sam? What was she doing here. "Sam?" Lucky called out, making his way through the crowd.

Sam beamed up at him from a chair. "Hey, Lucky, I--" She gasped. "What happened to your head?"

"An encounter with your boyfriend's goons," Murphy said.

"Dude, your friend is awesome," Detective McLain said as he walked away, clapping Lucky on the shoulder. "_Awesome_."

Sam gave Murphy a look. "He's not my boyfriend--and why haven't you gotten that checked out yet?" she asked Lucky, pointing at his head.

Lucky shrugged. "I'm fine, I swear--hey, why are you here?"

Sam shrugged. "Jason got pulled in for questioning, you know, because of the warehouse--and then Carly recruited me to--"

"Harass the crooked cops?" Lucky finished.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I take it this happens often?"

Lucky and Murphy shared a look. "You have no idea," Murphy told her. "Wait a minute, Morgan's okay with his pregnant girlfriend--"

"I'm not his girlfriend--"

"--hanging around here, staying on her feet, surrounded by all these low-lifes..." Murphy's voice trailed off. "What am I saying? You live in Harbourview Towers. You're surrounded by low-lifes 24/7."

Sam rolled her eyes, but admitted, "Jason did tell me I didn't need to stick around...but I thought I would anyway. You know, for moral support. Plus, it's kind of exciting..." her voice trailed off as she stared at Lucky. "Okay, that cut is bugging me so much. Please, can't I patch you up?"

Lucky blinked. "Um...okay?"

Sam grinned. "Great." She turned to Murphy. "Do you guys have a first-aid kit around here?"

* * *

"Come on, Sonny, we both know what happened here--" Ric started.

As Sonny started giving his brother lip, Jason let his mind wander. No one was expecting him to say anything, he was the silent one, after all.

Silent, that was him.

And he thought. About the warehouse explosion. About all the warehouse explosions over the years. Like the one that had killed Kristina Cassadine. With a wince, he remembered Alexis's rage, her grief, the way she had lashed out at everyone.

Why was he thinking about this? No one had died this time. No one had even gotten seriously hurt...a few people had smoke inhalation, minor burns and cuts...but no one had _died_.

This time.

_"You work for the mob,"_ Sam had pointed out once, back in the beginning when she hadn't trusted him as far as she could throw him.

_"Yes. I do. But that part of my life won't touch you or the baby."_

She had laughed at him. _"Liar."_

Maybe it had been a lie. What the hell had he been thinking, promising something like that? This life had touched her already. And it would continue to.

This life had touched Carly and Michael and Morgan, it had touched Brenda, Elizabeth, even Robin...and Lily, God, Lily had been destroyed by it.

All of the women that he and Sonny had loved...all of them had paid somehow, for the life they led. Michael had paid, little Morgan would pay...and so would his daughter.

"Jason," Ric barked, cutting into his reverie. Jason pushed away his thoughts into the back of his mind.

* * *

"I thought--ow--you'd be upset," Lucky admitted. "About Jason being dragged in here."

Sam continued to dab at the cut. "You guys are just doing your job, I get that." She sighed. "Lucky, I haven't always been on the right side of the law, I'll admit but--I guess...I guess I'm just trying to be a responsible, upstanding citizen. For once."

Lucky smiled. "You're not mad?" he couldn't help but press. "You're not going to yell or stand up on a chair and blast all of us for--"

Sam laughed softly. "Standing up on a chair and screaming my head off won't get Jason out of here any faster, and I could give a rat's ass about Sonny." She bit her lip and leaned in, and Lucky couldn't help but focus on her mouth. That lush, rosebud mouth...always ready with a smile or a quip.

He had to say something. "Was I hearing things, or did you just get a proposal?"

Sam laughed, and nodded. "Yep. Some detective overheard me ripping into Carly, and evidently it impressed him so much he decided to propose marriage."

Lucky choked. "Wow."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. Do me a favor, and don't tell Jason. He'd freak."

"A cop proposes marriage to his pregnant--"

"Don't say girlfriend."

"--significant other, yeah, I think that'd throw him for a loop," Lucky said dryly. "And what did Carly say to you, anyway?"

Sam shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She frowned as she put a bandage on the cut. Lucky notices for the first time how small her hands are, and how gentle they are, as they softly pressed down on the bandage to make sure it stayed. "Lucky...on the news, it said that Jason and Sonny are involved in some kind of war with this woman—"

"Faith Rosco," he supplied, and feels a surge of irritation towards Jason. Bad enough that he and Sonny throw the entire city into chaos, but Jason could have at least told Sam, the mother of his unborn child... "Nothing's been proven yet, but yeah, they're in a mob war."

"Over what?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow. "Coffee beans?"

Murphy snorted. "Territory, sweetheart." He sighed. "First Sorel, now this?"

"You're forgetting about Moreno," Lucky reminded him. "Moreno, Sorel right after that, then of course Luis Alcazar, then _Lorenzo_ Alcazar--"

"With a little bit of Faith Rosco mixed in, let's not forget about that--"

"And Ric was acting like a lunatic then too," Lucky said musingly. "And now it's just Faith, but she's worse than all the rest combined."

Sam was turning pale. "Oh, God," she moaned. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Faith interjected, sauntering towards them, dressed in her customary black.

Murphy rolled his eyes. He was maybe the one person in Port Charles that was completely immune to Faith Rosco. He wasn't scared by her, turned on by her--in short, Murphy was an anomaly. "Speak of the she-devil," he muttered.

"Faith," Lucky said shortly.

Faith gave him a tight smile. "Spencer--right?" Her eyes flickered up and down, sizing him up.

She didn't look too impressed. Lucky figured she was comparing him to Luke. Over twenty years, and people still hadn't figured out he wasn't his dad.

Faith turned her icy gaze to Sam, who didn't seem at all intimidated. But then, Lucky reflected, when was she ever intimidated? "So," Faith drawled, "I hear you're the lucky girl who got knocked up by Jason Morgan."

Murphy whistled. Sam gave Faith the hairy eyeball, then smiled sweetly. "And I hear you're the sociopath who just blew up a warehouse."

Murphy and Lucky shared a look. Faith smiled disdainfully. "Here to stand by your man?"

"Here talking to two friends of mine," Sam shot back. "Now, if you're done boring me to death..."

Faith rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to respond, but Ric Lansing appeared. "Faith!" he bellowed. "Get in here!"

Without another look at the rest of them, Faith stalked off to the interrogation room. Ric slammed the door behind them.

Sam sat back in her chair and pouted. "Ugh. And ew."

"What men see in her I'll never understand," Murphy muttered darkly.

"Oh, no, that part I get," Sam said blithely.

Lucky raised his eyebrows, as did Murphy. "You do," he said blankly.

"Oh, sure," Sam said matter-of-factly. "It's that...promise of danger. It's that darkness in her eyes. It's in her walk, her voice...in the way everything about her screams "I'm going to screw you over in so many ways and you're going to like it". It's the fact that you'll know she'll never ever be boring, and that she'll definitely be bad for you, but you're pretty sure she can make you forget about that tiny detail." Sam paused for a moment. "Plus, she's really hot."

Murphy blinked. "Whoa."

Sam smiled. "Spend a lot of time with people like that, you figure out how their minds work."

"What, reckless, amoral sociopaths?" Lucky asked.

"No, people who have nothing to lose," Sam said seriously. "You're going to have problems with her. She's dangerous."

Murphy snorted. "Yeah, no shit."

"I'm serious," she said. "My bet is, that woman doesn't give a damn about anything or anyone. See, most criminals--they have a healthy respect for their own lives, if not other people's. But people like Faith...they aren't pragmatic, you get it? They're completely--"

"--out of control?" another voice finished smoothly.

The three of them turned to find a tall, almost completely bald man in his 50's smiling down at them. "Do you mind telling me where I can find Carly Corinthos?" he asked.

"Oh, she's probably ripping off another strip from the Police Commissioner's back," Sam said sarcastically. "And you are..."

"John Durant," the man said, holding out his hand. "Her father."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Oh. My. God. You're the fed."

"The _what_?" Lucky and Murphy nearly shrieked in unison, their mouths falling open.

* * *

"Let me see if I've got this straight," Murphy said, holding up a hand. "Carly Corinthos's father is a federal prosecutor, who is known for going after organized crime, _and_ has an unbelievable success rate when it comes to convictions."

"Yep," Sam said.

Lucky and Murphy looked at each other, both of them breaking out into huge grins. "Sonny has a _federal prosecutor_ for a father-in-law." His grin only grew wider. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

Sam snorted. "Tell me about it." She shifted in her seat, pressing a hand to her stomach.

Lucky's smile faded as a thought occured to him. "Wait, does Bobbie know about this? I mean--" Oh, shit. Lucky knew about his aunt's past life, and for her to suddenly see someone from that time--

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Carly must have said something to her, after all, right?"

Lucky snorted. "Carly doesn't exactly think about how her actions affect others."

Sam made a little hissing noise of pain. "Ahh..."

"Hey, Sam, you okay?" Murphy asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Sam shook her head, bending over her stomach. "Ow." She took several deep breaths. "I'm fine, I'm--ahh!" The cry was louder this time, and Lucky jumped out of his chair.

"Sam--"

She lifted her head, her hazel eyes looking up into his, filled with fear and panic. "Lucky...oh my God, Lucky...I think I'm going into labor."


End file.
